


The Bet

by CastellanGarak



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Banter, Bets & Wagers, Bottom Dukat, Bottom Garak, Cardassian flirting, Cloacal Sex, Drinking, Dukat gets bitch slapped, Dukat gets slapped like the bitch he is, False Pretenses, First Time, Hand Jobs, Intoxication, Kissing, M/M, Mistakes were made, Obliviousness, Pining, Questionable ethics, Tags to be added as I go, Top Dukat, Top Garak, Uniform Kink, a taste never hurt did it?, join the snark side, or rather, these two thought that as well, you may be saying to yourself "but i don't ship garakat"
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-17
Updated: 2019-02-02
Packaged: 2019-04-01 09:08:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 27,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13995039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CastellanGarak/pseuds/CastellanGarak
Summary: Dukat should never have taken that bet, it's started something out of both his *and* Garak's control. He should probably feel more guilty than he does about this whole thing. But hey, at least the sex is good? ... (*Great*, actually. Absolutely fantastic.)Edit: Most of this story is already written, it's just being edited and posted incrementally. Expect no more than two weeks between updates, for now.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my lovely beta, who went the extra mile <3

Garak peers glumly into his seventh glass of kanar. Things did not seem to be progressing with Bashir. Garak was a patient man, but it had been years, and he was beginning to lose hope that Bashir would ever return his affections. Maybe it was time to move on. Garak just wants to forget, at least for tonight. He needs some way to put it out of his mind. He had thought kanar would work, but it just didn’t seem to be doing the trick. Garak found alcohol to be too muted, too subdued. He needs something loud, something distracting.

Just then he hears a roar of laughter from Dukat. Garak doesn’t know what Dukat is doing on the station. Ship repairs, probably. Garak doesn’t care. He just hopes Dukat won’t cause any problems for him. Dukat and his crew are just getting drunk, the same as anybody else in the bar tonight. Yet naturally, over the course of the night, the Cardassians got rowdier, harder to ignore.

Garak hears another burst of laughter, and looks over, irritated. He is surprised to see Dukat looking back at him, a sloppy smirk twisting its way across his face. Then, in one fluid motion, he pushes himself up from the table and swaggers over. Garak rubs a hand down his face, not in the mood for Dukat’s pestering tonight. He downs his seventh glass of kanar.

“Garak!” Dukat says warmly, sliding into the empty barstool next to him, and smiles–smiles!–at him.

Garak is incredibly unnerved.

“What do you want, Dukat?” Garak asks, motioning the bartender for another glass of kanar.

Dukat tilts his head, bird-like. “Who says I want anything?” he asks, innocently. Garak just looks at him. Dukat looks back, for a moment, and then shrugs. “I just wanted to talk.” _Is that all?_ Garak thinks, surprised. “Somewhere private,” Dukat continues. And ah, there it is. Quark puts the kanar Garak asked for on the bar in front of him. Dukat picks it up and downs it in one swallow. Garak gives Dukat a disbelieving look. Dukat looks back at him, seemingly unaware that he’s being shockingly rude.

Dukat grins cockily, and leans forward to put a hand proprietarily on Garak’s thigh. Garak throws Dukat’s hand off. Dukat, unperturbed, puts it back on his leg. Garak gives Dukat another disbelieving look, but it has no more effect than the first one did. Dukat scoots his stool closer, leans in close to murmur, “Let’s get out of here.”

Garak is stunned silent. Skrain “fucked half the quadrant” Dukat just used, with a straight face, a line so clichéd on him. It's surreal. One would expect someone with his experience to be smoother. _Not_ , Garak thinks, hurriedly, _that I’ve thought about it._

Suddenly, unable to help himself, he does. He imagines Dukat seducing some faceless Bajoran woman. Taking her back to his quarters, to his bed, their lithe bodies twining together. With a start, Garak realizes what he’s doing, and gives his head a good shake, as if trying to dislodge the unwanted thought.

He turns to Dukat, who still watches him expectantly, running a finger absently around the rim of his glass. Garak collects himself, clears his throat. “I’m not interested, Duka-” he is cut off when Dukat pushes the glass aside, then lurches forward and latches onto his neck like a drunken, overgrown leech.  He surprisingly, manages to suck rather skillfully on one of Garak’s neck scales, and a bolt of lust shoots through Garak.

_Well_ , he thinks dizzily, _I did ask for a distraction_. “You know what,” Garak says, “I think we should get out of here, after all.”

Dukat breaks away from his neck, and smiles up at him. “Excellent,” he says, and stands up, taking Garak by the hand, eagerly tugging him up and out of the bar.

—–

Garak wakes up with a splitting headache, and rolls over. His hand lands on smooth, warm, scales. He pulls back in shock, opens his eyes. His gaze lands on Dukat, and Garak squawks, scrambling to the foot of the bed. Dukat shoots up into a sitting position, and looks at Garak in shock. They stare at each other like deer in headlights. “Please,” Dukat says. “Please, tell me we didn’t.”

Garak, sore in places he hadn’t had cause to be sore in for over eight years, winces and carefully eyes Dukat. “I’m afraid we did.”

Dukat lays back, pressing the palms of his hands into his eyes. “Fuck. Fuck me.”

Garak rolls his eyes at this melodramatic idiot. How had he somehow managed to worm his way into his bed, again? A feat Garak had not expected anyone to manage, _least_ of all Dukat. 

Garak had always been very particular about who he let share his bed, and then, after he had gotten exiled, Garak was too depressed to even entertain fantasies let alone consider seeking out actual partners to engage with. 

Until, sitting in the replimat, an oasis found in his desert, he met Julian. He hadn’t wanted anyone else so badly as that in all his years. He felt thirst again after these long years drifting through his endless sands.

After that, Garak had felt only Julian could offer the drink to end Garak’s dry spell. He hadn’t been saving himself for him, exactly, but still feels an uncomfortable  roiling and general unsettlement in his gut over his first time in eight years being with Dukat, of all people, when who he really wanted was Julian.

Garak looks over at Dukat, consideringly. He wasted his first time in eight years on Dukat, and he didn’t even remember it. If he’s already ruined his streak, he wants to at least remember. That way, it won’t feel like it was for nothing. Maybe the snake writhing about in his stomach will be put to sleep for a while. Garak rolls over to face Dukat, and then presses sucking kisses to his shoulder. He doesn’t have any soft feelings for Dukat, but he’s still thinking about Julian, and it gentles him, where otherwise he’d be rough. Dukat shoves him off and sits up. “What the _fuck_?” he asks. “What are you doing?”

Garak shrugs lazily. “We already fucked. Why not go a few more rounds, while we’re at it?”

Dukat looks at him like he’s crazy. Then, he looks to the ceiling, as if asking Gods he doesn’t believe in, for guidance. And finally, he sighs, giving Garak an annoyed look. “Well. Seeing as how I’ve already lost every last shred of self-respect, I may as well get a few more orgasms out of the deal.”

“That’s the spirit,” Garak purrs, and pushes him down onto the bed, giving a couple firm pats to his hip. Garak swings a leg over Dukat’s body, settles himself comfortably, and then leans down to kiss him. Dukat tilts his head up to kiss him back, and rests his hand casually against Garak’s back, starts to play with a ridge there. Garak moans, arches up into the motion. Dukat presses harder, and Garak breaks off the kiss to rest his forehead against Dukat’s chest, panting. Garak feels himself start to evert, the parting of his slit sending droplets of liquid onto Dukat’s abdomen.

Dukat’s stomach clenches in surprise, and then again when he laughs. “I didn’t know you were so easy. I barely touched you.”

Garak’s scales darken in a blush. “I’m still a bit drunk, that’s all.”

“Sure,” Dukat says, humoring him. He then pulls Garak’s head back up to expose his neck, and sinks his teeth into it.

Garak hisses in pain. “Don’t _bite_ me there,” he says. “It’s really sore. You must have bitten it too much last night.” Instead of relenting, Dukat sinks his teeth in even deeper. Garak is about to protest again, but then gasps when his cock slides the rest of the way out, coming to smear wetly against Dukat’s abdomen.

Dukat hums thoughtfully. “Didn’t expect you to go in for pain,” he muses.

“Well I did decide to fuck you again, so I must be somewhat masochistic.” Garak quips.

Dukat smirks up at him. “I’m already in bed with you, there’s no need to flirt so outrageously.”

Garak blushes. He hadn’t meant to flirt. Upon seeing his blush, Dukat smirks even wider. Garak wants to tell him to wipe that smug grin off his face, but decides it isn’t worth whatever positively _awful_ comment Dukat will make in return. So instead, he puts his mouth to better use, nipping at Dukat’s neck ridge. While Dukat goes in with brute force, Garak uses more finesse, and soon has Dukat moaning and occasionally giving little aborted buck of his hips.

Garak teases at Dukat’s slit, coaxing his cock out until he’s completely everted. Then he removes his hand and grinds down against him, sliding their cocks sweetly together. Dukat grips at his thigh, and Garak leans down to kiss him, grinding against him again and again. He sets a steady rhythm, and soon they’re both panting into each other’s mouths. Garak brings his hand down to tease at Dukat’s entrance, then slips a finger inside.

Dukat tenses up. “Stop,” he says.

“What? Why?” Garak asks. “I thought you wanted to do this."

"Not like that.”

“Well I hope you weren’t expecting to fuck _me_ ,” Garak says archly. “You did a number on me last night. I’m too sore for any further activity.” It’s not a lie, exactly. It’s just not the entire truth. He is rather sore. But he could probably go again, if he really wanted to. He _does not_ want to.

“Your mouth then,” Dukat says, a statement, not a question.

Garak snorts at his presumption. “Sore there, too.” Also a partial truth.

Dukat’s mouth tightens in irritation. “If you’re so sore, then why did you suggest we go again?”

_Because I’m angry at you, for ruining my streak. Because I know you find the prospect of someone fucking you humiliating and degrading, and I want to humiliate you. But more than that, I want to make you like it. Because liking it would ruin you more than letting it happen in the first place. I want you to crave it, and hate yourself for it._

“Because I didn’t anticipate you being so unreasonable. If you don’t want to do this, you’re free to leave.”

Dukat squirms, uncomfortably. “You already got me worked up, and now you expect me to just leave?”

“I’d rather you let me fuck you, but it’s up to you.”

“I already said no!” Dukat says indignantly.

Garak sighs impatiently. “I don’t know what you want from me, Dukat. I’m giving you two options: let me fuck you, or leave. If you don’t like either of them, that’s not my problem.”

Dukat huffs, annoyed. He hesitates for a long moment, as Garak stares at him with an eyeridge raised. “Alright,” he murmurs, barely audible, scales darkening in a blush.

“What? Didn’t catch that,” Garak says.

“Fuck you, you heard me.” Dukat says, blushing harder.

“I want to hear you say it. Tell me you want me to fuck you.”

Garak slides his finger back in to assess Dukats wetness, while maintaining eye contact with dukat. He's sopping.

Dukat squirms and growls. “Don’t push your luck, Garak.”

Sliding his finger out, and wriggling two back in, Garak scissors his opening a couple times for good measure. He slips them out.

“Hmmm,” Garak says, and lines himself up, cradling his cock and swirling the tip around Dukats entrance. The tip finds purchase and slides forwards into Dukat. Garak starts to push in, but Dukat stops him with a hand on his chest. “Go slow,” he says, sounding nervous.

“Don’t worry,” Garak says. “I’ll be gentle, it being your first time, and all."

Dukat growls again. "Don’t _mock_ me, you fu-” but is cut off when Garak slides in another inch. “Oh,” he says, sounding dazed. “This feels weird.”

“Do you want me to stop?” Garak asks.

“ _No_ ,” Dukat says. Even if he did want that, his pride wouldn’t let him admit defeat. Especially not in front of Elim Garak.

Garak gives him a minute or two to adjust, and then resumes pushing in. Dukat fists one hand in the bedsheets, the other in Garak’s hair, as if he needs to anchor himself. Dukat’s face is screwed up in discomfort, and he’s huffing little distressed whines. Garak leans down, silences them with his mouth. Dukat kisses back desperately, trying to distract himself from the pain. Garak brings a hand to his face, slows the frantic kisses. After a good minute, Garak rocks the slightest bit to loosen dukat a bit more, and get the slick doing its job. He slides in the rest of the way, and Dukat sighs in relief.

Garak starts thrusting, and Dukat tenses up. “You need to relax,” Garak says. “It will make it less unpleasant if you stop clenching.”

Dukat hisses at him. “I _know_ that, don’t patronize me.” He squirms in discomfort, and then says, “ugh, why do people do this.”

“Because it feels good,” Garak says, and kisses him again. Dukat bites his lip, hard. Garak pulls back in surprise. “What was that for?”

“Pull out,” Dukat demands imperiously. “I want to try a different position. It will hurt less from behind.” Garak lets him turn over, and then slides back in. Dukat sighs. “I was right. This is better.”

Garak hums. “Well, good.” He starts thrusting.

Dukat shivers, gasps. “Oh! That feels-” he cuts off with a moan. “Give me more,” he orders.

Garak chuckles. “I don’t think you’re ready for more. Here, let me-” he reaches down to pump Dukat’s dripping cock. Dukat moans again, long and loud. He's panting now, and doesn't seem to know what to do with his body. He seems to be attempting to push back on Garak’s cock, with little success.

Garak laughs again. “You really like this, huh?”

“Shut the–I’m just horny. I’m still a little drunk, and that always makes me horny. And you wouldn’t let me fuck you, so I had no choice.”

“Sure. If that’s what you have to tell yourself to make this easier. But I know what you won’t admit. You're _desperate_ for this.”

“Garak, if you don’t shut the _fuck_ -”

Garak cuts him off. “What would everyone say if they saw you like this? Letting your most hated enemy give it to you from behind. _Loving_ it, even. You act all intimidating and dominant, but really you just needed the right person to _fuck_ you.”

Dukat growls. “I told you to shut-” he cuts off with a gasp, shudders, and then comes onto Garak’s hand. Garak wipes it off on the bedding, and flips Dukat over, sliding back into him. Dukat, limp with pleasure, lets him. Garak has never been so thankful for Cardassian biology. There were races, Garak knew, who needed time to recover between rounds. Normally, Garak would have found the prospect charming, if slightly odd. But after eight years of celibacy, he does not want to wait, doesn’t think he _can_.

For Julian, he would have found a way. But this is not Julian. Garak is angry again, and sets a punishing pace, harder than he intended. Dukat growls at him, looks as if he is about to protest, but Garak finds his sweet spot, and he moans. “Wait,” Dukat says between gasping breaths, “Wait, stop,” he pushes weakly at Garak’s chest. Garak stops.

“What is it this time?” Garak asks, exasperated.

“Let me get on top,” Dukat demands.

“Hmmm,” Garak says, pretending to consider it. “No.”

“What?” Dukat asks, indignantly. “Why the fuck not?”

“That’s not what you really want,” Garak says. “You like it that I’m in control.”

“Fuck you, I do not.”

“Oh. Is that why you came so fast, then?” Dukat growls, but flicks his eyes away, unable to meet Garak’s gaze. “That’s what I thought.” Garak says smugly, and resumes fucking him.

Dukat smacks at Garak’s side, angry and embarrassed, and Garak catches his wrist, pushes it into the bedding by Dukat’s head, and holds it there in a strong grip. He leans down to kiss him, slides his tongue into his mouth. Dukat moans, wraps his legs around Garak’s waist, and kisses him back fervently.

—–

Dukat limps back to his ship. His crewmate Balor smirks at him. “How was he?” he asks.

“How was who?” Dukat asks in turn.

“Garak,” Balor says, rolling his eyes, as if it should be obvious. “You fucked him, right?”

“What? How did you know?” Dukat demands.

Balor claps him on the shoulder, grinning toothily. “I knew you could do it. Pevor should never have bet against you.”

Bet? Dukat thinks, but then it comes back to him. A sudden rush of memory. Him boasting that he could coax anyone into his bed, if he wanted, anyone at all. Pevor snorting, disbelieving. Dukat insisting it’s true. Pevor challenging him to bag the hardest target of all: Garak, and then maybe he’d buy Dukat’s claim. Dukat faltering for a moment, but then refusing to back down.

Dukat rubs his fingers against his aching head. Of all the stupid things to do. He would never, ever do anything like this ever again. Elim Garak was _dangerous_ , and Dukat would stay far away from him. Who knew what other humiliating, degrading things he could force Dukat to do. Dukat is suddenly furious. He had never let anyone fuck him before, and the fact that Garak of all people was his first. It’s unbearable.

“Let’s raise the stakes.” Balor says, pulling him from his thoughts. “Get him to fall in love with you,” he adds, a challenging glint in his eyes.

“You’re on,” Dukat says, immediately, all thoughts of what a bad idea this is slip from his mind. All he can think of is revenge. For every humiliation Garak inflicted on him, Dukat vows to return them tenfold. A plan begins to form. Garak ruined him, but it is _nothing_ compared to what Dukat will do to him in return.


	2. Chapter 2

Garak was hiding. It had been a little over a month since his inadvisable one night stand with Dukat. To Garak's utter mortification, someone had spotted Dukat coming out of his quarters, and news of their liaison had spread rapidly throughout the station. Whispers had followed Garak around for days, and Garak had been annoyed that Dukat had gotten to fuck off to some distant star system, while Garak had had to bear the brunt of the humiliation. Fortunately, people had better things to talk about than some exiled Cardassian's sex life, and so the gossip soon died down.

But now, Dukat was back on the station, which was enough for the whispers to start up again. Luckily, it was Garak's day off, so he was able to hide in his room, avoiding both Dukat, and the amused glances of the station's residents. He is currently curled up on the couch with his padd, rereading his favorite enigma tale. He blows on his mug of red leaf tea, takes a sip, and sighs contently. As he leans back into the cushions, his door buzzes, and Garak puts down his tea and padd with two light clinks, puzzled. The door buzzes again, and, feathers ruffled now, Garak snaps "I'm coming, calm down," whilst  shuffling over to open the door.

Dukat smiles down at him. "Garak," he says, warmly.

Garak closes the door. Almost immediately, Dukat pounds insistently at it.

"Go away, Dukat!" he shouts, but is promptly startled at his own behavior. He does not normally raise his voice at so little provocation. He has no idea why Dukat is getting to him as much as he is.

"I just want to talk!" Dukat says, muffled, through the door.

"Yeah, and look where that got us last time!" Garak says back. The pounding stops.

"Was it that bad?" Dukat asks, voice small, an obvious attempt at manipulation.

Garak opens the door. "I'm letting you in," he says, "but only because I refuse to have this conversation through the door."

"Good enough for me," Dukat says, and strides in confidently. The door slips shut behind him, and he presents Garak with what looks like an expensive a box of chocolates.

"Are you fucking serious," Garak says, flatly, but he’s tempted.

Dukat shrugs, opens the box, and pops one in his mouth. "Hey!" Garak says indignantly. "I thought those were for me!"

Dukat shrugs again, and opens his mouth, clearly about to speak around the food he’s currently chewing. Garak’s lip curls in disgust at his atrocious table manners.

“You didn’t want it,” Dukat says, slightly muffled. Swallowing the expensive chocolate in a quick gulp, he goes to pick another out of the box.

"That's not the point," Garak says, snatching the box from him before Dukat can waste more of them. He puts the box on the coffee table. "Now, what did you want?" he asks, turning back to Dukat.

"Go on a date with me," Dukat says, without preamble.

Garak blinks at him in surprise. “What?” He manages. “A date?”

“An outing.” Dukat explains, slowly. “With two people. Generally of a romantic nature.”

“I _know_ what a date is,” Garak snaps. “What I _don’t_ know is why you want to go on one with _me.”_

Dukat shrugs. “Why not? We had a good time the other month.”

“Dukat. We had a one night stand. That doesn’t mean we should date.” Garak says incredulously. He cannot believe they are having this conversation. Surreal does not even begin to cover it.

“Why not?” Dukat asks again.

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe because we hate each other?”

“I don’t hate you.” Dukat says.

“Well _I_ hate _you_!”

“Maybe you wouldn’t hate me if you got to know me,” Dukat says, mouth ticking up at the corner into a smile that would be charming, if not for context.

Garak rubs his temple wearily. “Dukat. Please just leave. It’s my day off, and I want to enjoy it.” He grabs Dukat by the arm, tries to usher him out. Dukat stands firm, refusing to move.

“Please,” he says. ” Just let me convince you.”

“No.” Garak says simply.

"But-"

"No."

"Would you just let me-"

"No."

"Garak, honestly!" Dukat bursts out, starting to get angry. "You are _infuriating_."

"I could say the same of you," Garak replies, calmly. "Now leave."

"Are you sure I can't convince you?" Dukat asks.

"I'm sure," Garak says. "If that's all?" He gestures to the door.

Dukat shifts from foot to foot, frustrated. He needs to win the bet. He needs to get Garak to fall in love with him. But Garak's not cooperating, won’t give him even an inch. Dukat doesn't know what to do. And then, suddenly, he does.

Over the past few weeks, memories from that first night had come back in fits and starts. Garak had been so drunk. And he loved to talk. Even sober, he never shut up, and the drink only exacerbated it. He had babbled incessantly, and among all the chatter he had confessed that he had thought Dukat was attractive, from the moment he first saw him. Dukat could use that, the fact that Garak wanted him.

Dukat steps close, and before Garak can react, he kisses him. Garak freezes in shock. Dukat nips at his lips, waiting for him to respond. And then, he does, biting Dukat’s lip cruelly. “Ow,’ Dukat says, pulling back.

Garak shoves him, putting even more space between them. "We are _not_ ," he says, enunciating clearly, "doing this again." They look at each other. Garak looks so angry, that Dukat doesn't know if this will work, after all. And then, Garak's kissing him, frantically. Garak shoves Dukat against the door, pinning him against it. He kisses Dukat with surprising passion, for someone who had been so insistent on rebuffing him just minutes prior.

Garak hitches Dukat’s leg up, holding it up with a firm grip at his thigh. Dukat breaks the kiss, pulling back to inquire, “What are you doing?” Garak ignores him, moving his hand to his backside and boosting him up against the door. Dukat squawks, wrapping his other leg around Garak in a reflexive effort not to fall, arms going tightly around his neck. And then he’s angry with himself for wrapping himself so intimately around Garak.

"What are you doing?" he demands, embarrassed to be put in such a submissive position. "Put me down!"

"I don't think so," Garak says.

"I'm not letting you fuck me again,” he says, certain that that is where Garak is taking this.

"Oh, alright," Garak says airily.

"I mean it!" Dukat says, indignantly.

"I'm sure you think so. But it'll be just like last time. You say no, I convince you, and then you're under me, moaning and writhing."

Dukat blushes, furious. "I only let you convince me before because you were too sore for me to fuck you. But you're not, now."

"How do you know?" Garak asks, looking steadily into his eyes. "Maybe I got fucked wildly last night."

Dukat meets his gaze for a long moment then looks away, scoffing. "Yeah, sure."

“No, really. Delightful fellow. And much better in bed than you. I should call him. Maybe he’ll be amenable to meeting again tonight.

Dukat growls, tugging cruelly at Garak’s hair. “Lying. You’re lying.”

“Am I?” Garak asks, tipping his head back to lessen the tension on his hair. Dukat takes advantage of his exposed neck to bite him fiercely, gnawing at the skin between his teeth, drawing blood. Garak hisses. “Calm down. Stop biting me. You’re right, I was lying. I didn’t think you’d get so jealous.”

“‘M not jealous.”

“Uh-huh,” Garak says, unconvinced. “Regardless. You're the one who came to me. If you really want me to go on a date with you, then you'll give me what I want in return."

"What you want?" Dukat asks, incredulously. "Five minutes ago, you said this wasn't happening again!"

"Yes, and I changed my mind. Let me fuck you, and I'll let you take me on a date."

Dukat hisses, throws his head back against the door. "Fine," he says, grudgingly. He hates this, but it will be worth it, if it means Garak will agree to the date.

"But first, you have to beg." Garak says, smirking.

Dukat looks at him, outraged. "That wasn't the deal!"

Garak adjusts his grip on Dukat’s thigh, begins to lower him to the floor. Dukat clings to him. “What are you doing?”

“You said to put you down.”

“Oh.”

“Unless you're ready to beg?”

Dukat snarls. “Put me down.”

Garak does, too quickly and with little care. Dukat staggers, bracing himself against Garak’s chest. His hands clench on the collar of Garak’s shirt, and he looks searchingly into his eyes.

“Uh,” Garak says, dislodging his grip, and turning away. “Alright. Goodbye then.” He heads back to the couch, intent on returning to his reading.

Dukat panics. He was so close to getting Garak to agree to the date. If he can't do it now, he doubts he will get another chance. He gnaws at his lip, trying to weigh how much winning is worth to him. He tastes Garak’s blood, which startles him. He'd forgotten it was there. Dukat swipes his tongue across his lip, licking up the rest. His eyes flick to the wound at Garak’s neck, still sluggishly bleeding. "Please," he says.

Garak looks over his shoulder at him, raises an eyeridge.

Dukat huffs, grits his teeth. "Please, Garak, please fuck me."

Garak sits down, grabs his tea, and blows on it. "You're going to have to do better than that," he says, and takes a sip.

Dukat is so angry, he's worried a vein is going to burst. "Just put your cock in me, already!"

"Hmmm," Garak says, pausing thoughtfully. "No."

Dukat feels like he is going to explode, but forces himself to calm. "What do you mean, no," he says, icily.

"I never had any intention of going on a date with you. I don't want to fuck you that badly. In fact, I don’t want to fuck you at all. I just thought it would be amusing to see how quickly you would submit to me." Garak says, smirking meanly. He puts down his tea and picks up his padd.

“I didn’t _submit_ to you!” Dukat says angrily.

“Didn’t you?” Garak asks, looking up from his reading. “I had you up against the door, and then I had you begging. That seems quite submissive, to me.”

Dukat growls, scales darkening. What was he thinking? Nothing is worth this. He should just leave. But he doesn’t want to. He can’t just let Garak get away with this.

Anyway, he already has his foot in the door. He just needs to press his advantage. Dukat strides towards the couch, leans over Garak, braces a hand on the back of the couch, and smacks the padd right out of Garak’s hands. "Hey!" Garak says, outraged, "How dare y-" Dukat kisses him silent, awkward at first, because Garak’s lips are still in the process of forming words, but Dukat angles his head properly, and fits their mouths perfectly together.

Garak lets out a choked noise of surprise, then kisses back, wrapping an arm around Dukat. He uses his grip to tug Dukat down onto the couch, and wrestles him underneath him. Dukat grunts at the rough handling, but lets his legs fall open without thought, giving Garak room. Once he realizes what he’s done, he hisses at his own automatic submission, disgusted. How does Garak keep him so effortlessly pliant?

"I won't let you fuck me," he says again. If Garak isn't going to hold up his end of the deal, then neither is Dukat. Garak hums agreeably, and tugs insistently at Dukat’s pants. Dukat lifts his hips up so that Garak can pull them down, along with his underwear.

Dukat is fully everted, cock dripping, purse open and moist. They both look down to Dukat’s lower half, surprised for different reasons. Dukat squirms under Garak’s scrutiny, scales darkening with humiliation. His purse appears to twitch and clench.

"You liked it," Garak says. "You liked having to beg."

Dukat wants to deny it, but there's no point, not with such obvious evidence. Garak throws Dukat's pants to the floor, then unzips his own, pushing them down far enough to get out his cock. He grips Dukat’s thigh, pushing it up and angling his hips so he can line up. Dukat gasps, dazed. This is all happening so fast. He should have left. He should have--

His thought is cut off when Garak begins to push in. Dukat’s toes curl, he’s dizzy with lust. And then he remembers that he wasn’t supposed to let this happen, and is suddenly outraged. He already said he wouldn't let Garak fuck him!

He’s about to shove Garak off of him, but Garak bottoms out, and all the air is forced out of Dukat. There’s so much... tying him to Garak. The prUt anchors him, and presses insistently on something that just... _itches_ so badly to be struck again. Garak pulls back, and Dukat can breathe again. He tries to collect himself, and manages to a degree.

What little composure he managed to scrounge up shatters when Garak fucks into him again, hard. Dukat throws his head back and moans, mouth dropping open. He had forgotten how good it was. Or, he had tried to forget. But he wants it, he _wants_ it. "Garak," he says, "Garak, please." And then he's disgusted with himself. He hates that he wants this, _hates_ that Garak can reduce him to this pathetic, whimpering creature.

Garak starts stroking his cock, and Dukat's face clears, then tightens in pleasure. "Oh," he says, realizing he's far too close to finishing already, and tangles his fingers in Garak’s hair, uses his grip to pull him down for a kiss. Garak kisses him for a moment, but then pulls out, allowing Dukat to abruptly fall away from the edge of orgasm.

"Why did you stop?" Dukat demands.

"You don't want it like this," Garak replies.

"Oh, _now_ you care about what I want," Dukat says, annoyed.

"I was right the first time," Garak says, thoughtfully, allowing his chest to rumble, his breath to caress Dukat’s ear, and his voice to drop to a deeper, silkier, octave. _"You want it up against the wall."_

"No.” Dukat says, “Stop!” Dukat says, when Garak stands up, pulling Dukat with him. He drags the protesting Gul back over to the door, and lifts him up against it. "I said stop!" Dukat says, legs dangling awkwardly at Garak’s sides. He pushes away from Garak’s grip, pressing back against the unforgiving door, going limp, when he realizes it's not any better.

Garak grunts at the dead weight. “Why are you like this?”

“Put me down.”

“You don't really want that.”

“Yes I d--oh,” Dukat says, eyes rolling upwards as Garak enters him.

"I told you," Garak says, smugly.

"Shut up and fuck me," Dukat says, moving to harshly suck at Garak’s neck.

\----

One hour later, they lay panting on the bed, their location of choice after Dukat had had his second orgasm up against the door, and demanded to be let down. "This is never," Garak says, between deep gulps of air, "happening again."

"What?" Dukat asks, outraged, lifting his head from its resting place on Garak’s chest, so he can glare down at him angrily. "We made a deal! You said you'd go on a date with me, if I let you fuck me. Well, I did!"

“It’s cute that you thought I’d honor a deal like that,” Garak says, smirking and raising an eyeridge.

Dukat looks at him with such genuine betrayal, that Garak throws his head back and laughs. “No,” he says, after he's calmed down. “You can take me out. I've already lost any and all respect anyone may _possibly_ have once had for me, because of this fling. So, I suppose, if you're paying, what have I got to lose?”

“Mmm,” Dukat says, resting his chin on Garak’s chest again. “Don’t know how I feel about using sexual favors to get what I want.”

“Oh? Don't you always? I assumed that's how you'd gotten to Gul status. Fucked your way to the top.”

Dukat gives a purring laugh. “You really do flirt outrageously for someone who claims to hate me.”

“I do hate you,” Garak says, chuckling and giving him a couple condescending pats on the cheek. Dukat looks annoyed, but too tired to protest. Garak laughs, again, at the face he makes.

“2100 tomorrow,” he says. “Now get out.”


	3. Chapter 3

After Dukat leaves, Garak immediately goes to the liquor cabinet and pours himself a glass of kanar. He cannot believe he just did that. What was he _thinking_? The first night he was drunk, and the morning after, he was angry. He felt that was justification enough.

But this time, he didn’t have those excuses. He had done it out of pure lust, and that was unacceptable. And even _worse_ , he had agreed to a date. He would not have done that normally, but in the afterglow, flush with endorphins, it had not seemed like such a bad idea. And the unfortunate truth of the matter was that he _wanted_ him, with an intensity that surprised him.

Yes, he had always been _attracted_ to the man, but before last month, he would never have done anything about it, would not have wanted to. And suddenly he does, cannot seem to help himself. He sighs in despair, and throws back his glass of kanar, then pours himself another.

Suddenly he feels weird about drinking on his own, and calls Doctor Bashir, to ask him if he wants to grab drinks at Quark’s. He does. Garak goes to meet him there, and has a pleasant evening, able to put Dukat out of his mind, for a while.

\----

Garak stumbles home, drunker than he intended, and turns up the heat in his quarters, not in the mood to endure the biting cold of the station. He would not normally be so self indulgent, the cost of heating is not insignificant, on a station where extra heating is not normally required.

Garak thinks of Dukat, again, and resolves to not let this continue. For some inexplicable reason, Dukat has set his sights on him, but Garak must put a stop to this. Maybe the Major can help. In the past she had been good at rebuffing Dukat’s unwanted advances, and now he has left her alone entirely. He should call her for advice.

The call rings, and rings, and Garak is about to hang up, when she finally answers.

“Garak,” she says, annoyed. “Have you any idea what time it is?”

Garak giggles, overly loud. “Is your chronometer malfunctioning? You should get that fixed.”

Kira raises an eyebrow at him. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you _giggle_ before. Are you drunk?”

“Mmmm, I am.”

Kira’s mouth drops open in shock. “So this is a drunk dial? You’ve always seemed too… refined, to do such a thing.”

“There are extenuating circumstances,” Garak says, furrowing his brow ridges and straightening up, squaring his shoulders.

“I’d be interested to hear what they are,” Kira says archly, interest reluctantly piqued.

Garak huffs and relaxes a bit. “It’s Dukat. He’s somehow-”

“Oh, right, the date.” Kira says, lip quirking up in a smirk. “So that’s why you’ve called.”

“What? How did you know about the date? I haven’t told anyone!”

“He was bragging about it, earlier. Gossip spreads, on this station. Are you surprised?”

Garak rolls his eyes. “Unfortunate, but not unexpected.” He shakes his head. “Anyway, I need advice. How did you get Dukat off your ass?” he asks, suddenly desperate.

“Excuse me?”

Garak gestures emphatically, hand waving in and out of the viewscreen’s field of vision. “Dukat. How did you get him to stop pursuing you?”

Kira considers for a moment, then speaks. "Well first off, I didn't have a drunken one night stand with him, and then sleep with him again the first time he came back stationside. So start there," Kira says, and then adds, as if it's just occurred to her, "Oh, oops, too late."

Garak gives her a surprised look, at her teasing familiarity. He forgot for a moment, in his drunkenness, to take into account she was Bajoran. He really should remember most alpha quadrant species don't flirt as Cardassians do. He sighs. "Yes, very funny."

"I thought so," Kira says, pleased with herself. "Ok, but seriously." she goes on, and Garak perks up hopefully. "I'd like to formally thank you. It's been nice to have Dukat leave me alone. So thanks."

Garak looks frustrated for a moment, before he wipes his face clean of expression. "If you're not going to help-"

Kira cuts him off, "Garak, honestly! I know men think with their dicks, but Dukat? What were you thinking?" Garak, angry and embarrassed, cuts the comm call, but not before he gets to experience Kira howling with laughter.

Grumbling, he grabs another glass of kanar, and then goes to bed.

\----

Garak has lunch with Doctor Bashir the next day, in the other man’s quarters, because his throbbing head meant he was in no mood to deal with the chatter of the station’s residents, or the retrofitted _blindingly_ bright lights scattered about everywhere he goes. (Julian had been kind enough to lower the lights in his quarters.)

Garak presses the chime on Julian’s door, which Julian soon opens. He takes one look at Garak, and visibly has to restrain his laughter. Garak hisses and pushes him inside. He waits until the door slips shut behind him. "Okay, get it out of your system," he says, waving a hand.

Julian bursts out laughing. "Dukat! A date with Dukat! Garak, what were you thinking!"

Garak sighs. "The second time I've heard that in the past two days. I don't think I like it."

"What?" Julian asks. "Who else-"

Garak puts a hand to his temple. “Major Kira, unfortunately.”

“Eh? You talk to her?

“It was, as she put it, a ‘drunk dial.’”

Julian snorts. “Unexpected behavior from you.”

“Uh-huh,” Garak says, and goes to order their meals from the replicator. They get settled, and Garak digs in with gusto. "Whoa," Julian says, surprised. "Why are you eating so quickly? Aren't you the one who always scolds me for that?"

Garak puts his fork down, looking above Bashir’s head to inspect Kukalaka on his shelf. "Well, it's just." Julian looks at him expectantly. Garak lowers his voice. "I'm trying to eat while I can. I'm worried I won't be able to, tonight." _On the date_ , he doesn't say.

"Ah," Julian says. "Yeah, I wouldn’t be able to eat while staring at his ugly mug, either."

"He's not-" Garak says, meets Bashir’s eyes, and cuts himself off abruptly, wondering why he's defending Dukat, of all people.

" _No_ ," Julian says, with disgust. "Please don't tell me you actually find that man attractive." Garak’s ridges flush dark, eyes flicking away. "Garak, _no_ ," Julian says emphatically.

"Would you stop saying that," Garak hisses. "What is so surprising, here? Why would I sleep with him if I didn't find him attractive??"

"I just--I mean--I thought you were playing some sort of mind game, or something. I hoped--"

"Well, I'm sorry to disappoint," Garak says,  hoping the other man doesn’t really think less of him. He’d done a stupid thing, letting his loneliness and built up sexual frustration get the best of him. It would be truly unfortunate if he’d compromised whatever modicum of respect Bashir still held for him over Dukat of all things. Dukat wasn't even the one he wanted! If Bashir  _ had _ happened to have any plans to take on Garak's suit, if he even realized Garak was attempting to court him  _ at all _ , there's  _ no way _ he'd accept  _ now. _

"Is he at least good in bed?" Julian asks, pulling him out of his thoughts.

"Julian!" Garak says, scandalized. But secretly, he’s relieved. If the Doctor is resorting to teasing, he’s not _truly_ disgusted with him.

"That's a yes," Julian says, smirking.

Garak doesn’t dignify that with an answer. Instead, he stands up and turns towards the door. He is _not_ discussing this with Doctor Bashir.

"Garak, come on, don't leave, I'll stop teasing." Garak sits back down. "So what are you gonna wear to the date? Need help picking out an outfit, something that shows off your ass?" Garak hesitates. He _does_ want to look good. Julian looks at him in shocked disgust. “ _Eugh_ , no. It was a joke, I’m _not_ helping you primp for the man.”

“I wasn’t---actually, considering it!”

“Sure,” Julian says.

“Look, can we talk about something else?”

“ _Gladly_.”

\----

Garak decides to wear exactly what he's currently wearing to the date. He doesn't want Dukat or anyone else to think he's dressing up for the man. He had spent the evening cleaning his quarters, and now he's waiting anxiously for Dukat to pick him up. He has no idea what to expect. He doesn't know what Dukat wants from him. He can’t _really_ just want to date Garak. Julian had suspected Garak of playing mind games, but Garak is sure that Dukat is the one doing that, instead. Garak doesn’t trust him. He should never have agreed to this. Maybe it's not too late to cancel.

The door buzzes, putting that notion to rest. Garak jerks to his feet, stumbles to the door. He slams the button, and it opens with a whoosh. Dukat smiles at him. "What," Garak says, and winces when his voice comes out too high. He clears his throat, tries again. "What are you wearing?" He asks, staring wide eyed at Dukat's central command uniform.

"Isn't it obvious?" Dukat asks.

"Let me rephrase. Why-" his voice dies out. He remembers, suddenly, drunkenly telling Dukat he had always thought he looked sexy in the uniform, that he'd wished Dukat was wearing it right then, because he wanted Dukat to fuck him while wearing it.

Garak starts to evert. He drags Dukat inside, slams his fist on the button to shut the door. "Hey!" Dukat protests. "What are you doing?"

"Did you make reservations?" Garak asks.

"Yes," Dukat says.

"Cancel."

"What? Why?"

Garak squirms. "I'm getting wet. There's no way I'll be able to sit across from you dressed like that, and not ruin my pants."

"What?" Dukat asks, incredulously.

"Do you not remember," Garak begins, desperately.

"Of course I remember! That's why I wore it! But I didn't think it'd be this… extreme. You've seen me in this uniform plenty of times and never had this problem."

"Well, I wasn't sleeping with you back then, so even if I'd wanted you to fuck me wearing that, it wouldn't have actually happened! But now-" Garak cuts off, and, unable to help himself, palms himself through his pants. He whimpers, and frantically unzips them, shoving his hand inside.

"By the Union," Dukat says, weakly.

Garak sways, and turns to lean against the wall. He pulls his cock out of his pants, strokes it fast and rough. After a few moments, he looks irritably at Dukat. "Well? Are you going to just stare at me all night, or are you going to fuck me?"

Dukat hesitates. This wasn't the plan. It was just that Garak was so reluctant about the date, so he wore the uniform to make himself a more attractive prospect. He wanted to milk Garak's attraction to him for all it was worth. But he hadn’t expected this. Dukat doesn't know what to do. He needs Garak to go on the date with him, which means leaving the room, so he can get him to fall in love with him. On the other hand, giving Garak what he wants could also achieve that goal, so perhaps staying wouldn’t be a mistake, either.

Dukat had taken too long to decide. Garak is staring at him irritably, and opens his mouth to say something scathing. Dukat cuts him off with a kiss. Garak moans, grabs desperately at his shoulders, and pushes him to the floor. He gets on top of Dukat and unzips his pants so he can pull his cock out. "Dukat!" Garak says, angrily, when he realizes Dukat hasn't everted yet.

"Give me a minute!" Dukat says exasperatedly. He pushes Garak off of him and onto the floor, then manhandles Garak's pants the rest of the way off. He leans down and takes Garak’s cock into his mouth.

"Oh," Garak says, trembling. "More," he demands. Dukat sinks down until his nose is pressed to Garak’s chuva, and shoves two fingers into Garak's dripping passage. He works Garak like this for a couple minutes, and then pulls back. "Don't stop," Garak wails.

"I'm ready," Dukat says, voice hoarse. "Or, I could keep going?"

_"Give me your cock"_

Dukat pushes himself up and crawls closer to him, gripping Garak’s thigh for leverage. He uses his other hand to push his hair out of his eyes, then moves it down to his cock, lining up. He pushes in, slowly, and Garak sighs, looking up at him. He trails his eyes hungrily down Dukat’s face, down to his torso, taking in every detail of the intricate armor. Dukat feels strangely exposed, despite being fully clothed. And then he’s bottoming out, and Garak throws his head back, shudders, and comes. "Did you just-" Dukat asks, surprised.

"Yes," Garak says, "Keep fucking me, and don't stop until I've come at least twice more."

"Bossy," Dukat says with a smirk. "But can we move to the bed first?"

Garak lets out a put upon sigh. "If we must. But you're going to have to carry me. I doubt my legs will work."

"Deal," Dukat says, and eases his way out of Garak. He tugs at his shoulder until he’s sitting up, then puts an arm under his legs, the other around his back, and lifts him off the ground. Garak moans softly, throws his arm around dukats neck, and kisses him.

Dukat pulls back in surprise. “What was that for?”

“You’re _strong_ ,” Garak says, voice deepening.

“Ah,” Dukat says realizing. It enhances the whole ‘military kink,’ thing. He chuckles, and leans in to kiss Garak properly, sliding his tongue into his mouth. Garak moans again, clinging to him.

Dukat stands there kissing him, for a minute, perhaps two.

He travels the short distance to the bed and deposits Garak on it, climbing up after him. Dukat shifts uncomfortably, adjusts his uniform. "Do I really have to keep this on? It wasn't meant for this."

"Don't you dare take it off," Garak hisses.

“Fine,” Dukat says, sighing. He pushes Garak a bit further up the bed, dropping a kiss on the pale inside of his thigh.

“What are you doing?” Garak demands. “Hurry up.”

Dukat chuckles smokily, and trails his mouth up his thigh until he gets to the seam of it, darting his tongue out to taste the soft skin there.

“Dukat, I swear to fuck.”

“Alright, alright,” Dukat says, crawling up Garak’s body. Once he’s positioned correctly, he slides his cock into Garak’s waiting body. Dukat grinds into him, and Garak gasps, clutching at him, pulling him closer. Dukat starts up a steady rhythm, slow and deep, and Garak moans, and starts squirming, throwing off his rhythm. "Would you quit _thrashing_ about," Dukat says exasperatedly, and holds his hips down.

“Dukat,” Garak says, gasping.

“Yes?” he asks.

“ _Harder_.”

Dukat obeys, and Garak starts to whine, high in his throat. Dukat leans down to silence it with his mouth, which Garak allows for a moment, then he turns his head away, breaking the kiss, and pressing his cheek into the pillow. His dark hair fans fetchingly across the crimson sheets, and it sends a stab of longing through Dukat.

 _Where did that come from_ , Dukat thinks, almost frightened. He chases the feeling away, and lowers his head to Garak’s neck, biting hard. Garak makes a pained noise, and then comes, clenching around him. Dukat gasps, follows him over the edge.

He pulls out, giving Garak a moment to recover. Garak tightens his legs around him, not letting him go far. “I didn’t say you could stop,” he says, voice hoarse.

“Okay,” Dukat says, “Just let me get this off.” He reaches for a buckle. Garak grabs his wrist.

“Don’t.”

“Garak. This is very uncomfortable.

“Please. You’ve no idea how long I’ve wanted-” Garak cuts himself off, teeth digging harshly into his bottom lip. He hadn’t meant to say that. Dukat gives him a surprised look, pleasure warming him to the core. He hadn’t thought Garak would admit to that sober. Neither did Garak, apparently, if the sudden deepening flush to his ridges is any indication. Dukat smiles, long, and slow, and utterly delighted. “No,” Garak says, scrunching up his brow. “Wipe that _smug_ look off your face. It doesn’t mean-” he cuts off with a hitching gasp when Dukat pins him to the bed, pushing back into his purse. "Oh, fuck, _Skrain_ ," he says. Dukat kisses him.

This time, Garak lets him.


	4. Chapter 4

Dukat gets to his quarters and unbuckles his chest plate, slowly and painfully getting it off. Once he’s done, he rubs at the red chafe marks pressed into his skin. His shirt had been shifting under his armour during it's use in... less than conventional circumstances. Wincing, he thinks on his actions. He doesn’t know why he did that for Garak. The man hadn’t even seemed to appreciate it.

Dukat had been so nice to him, and all he’d gotten for his efforts was rudely and unceremoniously kicked out. Garak is _always_ kicking him out, it seems. Dukat hadn’t minded, at first. It’s not like he wanted to spend any more time than necessary with the man. But he hadn’t even been allowed to bask in the afterglow before Garak was demanding he leave. As much as he enjoys banter as foreplay, Garak shouldn't be taking it this far _post_ -coital.

One would think someone so set on proper Cardassian manners would have the decency to treat his lover with some modicum of respect. Even if he's not willing to engage in standard aftercare or affection he should at least let Dukat use his shower after sex.

It was a good thing he had remained dressed as it turned out. Garak was so eager to get him out, he would probably have thrown him out before he finished getting his clothes on.

Dukat doesn't know why Garak was so frantic about it? He _thought_ he was making a breakthrough, managing to weasel his way under Garak’s defenses, but evidently not, he supposes.

Dukat will have to try harder. He cannot let them have sex this time; that only leads to him being kicked out. What he needs is for them to spend some quality time together (no matter how little Dukat himself wants it, naturally).

Dukat has an idea.

\-----

Garak doesn't know how Dukat convinced him to give the date another go. Garak hadn't wanted to do it the first time. He certainly doesn't want to do it now. And yet here he is, anxiously rearranging the pillows on his couch, for lack of anything better to do while he waits. The door buzzes, and he goes to the doorway to opens it. Dukat smiles at him as the door slides open. Garak presses the button to close the door. Dukat runs through just in time, and scowls at him. "What was that for?" he asks, looking down at Garak.

" _Really_ ," Garak says, voice dripping with contempt. "You come here dressed like _that_ ," he flicks his fingers at Dukat, "and you ask me why I did that. You're mocking me!"

Dukat looks down at his ridiculously, insultingly, conservative outfit, then back up to Garak. “I didn’t mean it like that,” he says. “I’m just taking precautions. I want us to actually make it to the date this time, instead of you dragging me to your bed for sex.”

“ _You_ dragged _me_ , if I remember correctly.”

“Garak. That isn’t the point! I swear I’m not mocking you. Let’s just go to the restaurant.”

“Mmhmm. I don’t buy it. Leave.” Garak says, jabs the button to open the door, and turns away.

Dukat closes it again, then nervously runs his fingers through his hair. He really hadn’t meant to mock Garak, not at first. But there had been a swirling, uncomfortable feeling in his chest ever since he’d seen Garak’s hair spread across the sheets, and he had been unable to fully tamp it down.

Garak had given him a soft look, after, and that had made it worse. Dukat is pulled out of his thoughts by Garak making another displeased noise. Dukat looks up at him, and the hatred on Garak’s face is in such contrast to that soft look, that Dukat almost believes he’d imagined it before.

“Ok. Yes. I was mocking you. But I’m sorry, alright? Would it help if I go change? There’s still time.”

Garak sneers at him. “You’d better get your deposit back for the reservation, before it’s too late. I’m not going anywhere with you, regardless of what you’re willing to strip off. It's not like you don't already strut about with your disproportionately long neck on display to the the unwitting residents of the station. I don’t think most of them even know what it _means.’_

“You probably don't even own any decent civilian clothing anyways. Stop trying to change my mind! you won't succeed.” He sits primly on the couch, turning his back to Dukat.

Dukat comes over and sits down next to him. “Please. Let me make it up to you.”

When he’d dressed himself in preparation their date he couldn’t resist mocking Garak, he needed to destroy the soft thing growing between them, like a flower pushing resiliently up through the cracks in the sidewalk. He needed Garak to feel it, but he mustn't fall prey to it himself. It appears he’d stamped it out too completely, though, in his carelessness, and now he regrets it.

He needs Garak to love him, not hate him even more.

“Please.” Garak says nothing. “I’ll let you fuck me again?” Dukat asks hesitantly. He doesn’t know what else he has to offer. That seems to be the only thing Garak will accept from him.

Garak looks over his shoulder at him, snorting incredulously. “I could fuck you anytime I wanted.”

“You could not!” Dukat protests. “I barely tolerate it.”

Garak turns more fully to him, “Oh _really_ ,” he says. “You’re probably wet just thinking of it.”

“You wish,” Dukat says, sneering.

Garak crowds him against the back of the couch, pressing close, leaning down so that their lips are inches apart. Dukat gasps, breath stuttering. He tilts his head up towards Garak’s, opening under him like that flower in the sun, craving sunlight, escaping through the cracks in search of it. Garak puts his hand on his thigh, runs it slowly upwards, slips it inside Dukat’s pants, cups his genital slit, smearing the wetness as he strokes it gently, teasing at the lips of it. Dukat moans, hips stuttering up into Garak’s hand.

“That’s what I thought,” Garak whispers, and then pulls back, withdrawing his hand, then wipes it on Dukat’s thigh.

Dukat sways forward, chasing his mouth, and then catches himself. He looks up at Garak through his lashes. “Why’d you stop?”

Garak snorts again. “I’m not going to give you what you want. I just wanted to prove my point.”

"Okay," Dukat says, "Fine. But at least tell me how I can make it up to you."

"You can't," Garak says airily. "But if you refuse to leave, you can just sit there quietly while I do some work." He puts some space between them, and picks up his padd.

“What are you working on?” Dukat asks, looking over his shoulder. Garak shoves him away. Dukat lets himself be pushed back, and hisses. He frantically tries to come up with a way to fix this situation, but he can't. He was sure offering to let Garak fuck him would work. He wouldn't have offered, otherwise. And now he's humiliated, because Garak knows he likes it, is desperate for it, even.

He had never wanted Garak to know, he can barely admit it to himself. But he realizes it was foolish to think he could hide it. Garak seems to know exactly what Dukat wants. Things Dukat has never admitted that he wants, even to himself. Like the last time he had fucked him, up against the door. Dukat can't help but remember exactly what it felt like, Garak pinning him there, fingers digging into his thighs as he held him up.

Dukat starts to evert; a slow, desperate bloom, lips spreading, bud inching out against it's owner’s will. He shifts uncomfortably, pressing his thighs together, trying not to remember, and failing. After several minutes, Garak looks over at him. "Why do you keep squirming?" he asks. Dukat's eyes flick involuntarily down to his lap. Garak follows his gaze to see the conspicuous bulge. "What?" He asks, and then, "Why?"

"I can't stop thinking about it," Dukat says, desperately.

"Well you're going to have to, because it's not happening." Garak says, rolling his eyes.

"Okay," Dukat says, "Can I just," he reaches for his zipper. He desperately needs to touch himself.

"No!" Garak shouts, smacking his hand away. "Go back to your quarters, if you're going to do that!"

"I can't," Dukat says. "They're being renovated." It's a lie. A transparent one. He just wants Garak so badly he can barely breath. Maybe if he stays, he can convince Garak to fuck him.

"That's not my problem!" Garak says.

"Garak, please," Dukat says.

"Stop! Stop begging! That will only turn you on even more!" Garak says. They both look down to see the front of Dukat's pants darkening with slick. "Ugh! You'll mess up my couch. I'm getting a towel." He leaves and comes back with said  towel from his linen closet. "Well, stand up," he says impatiently. Dukat stands, and Garak puts the towel down. He motions for Dukat to sit back down.

"This is humiliating," Dukat says.

"Oh, great," Garak says, exasperatedly, "You like that too. Would you just... try to calm down." Grimacing, he looks over his shoulder at Dukat before taking a deep breath and turning back to his designs.

Dukat tries his best to follow garaks example; control himself. His fingernails dig into his palms. The stabs of pain just make it worse. He remembers the first time, when he’d felt like he was being split open, but that had only made the ensuing pleasure sweeter. And Garak had given it to him again, and again, after that, until his eyes were nearly crossing from bliss. He had never expected Garak to be so _good_.

Only a few minutes pass before Dukat loses composure and bursts out with "Garak, please, just-"

"I told you to stop begging!" Garak says.

"It's just," Dukat says, "you're not making it easy on me."

"What," Garak says mockingly. "Don't tell me you have a kink for me ignoring you, as well." Dukat flicks his eyes away. " _By the Union_ ," Garak says, amazed, quite frankly. Whether the amazement would, or should, be taken as a compliment or not is up for debate. Garak throws aside his padd. "Fine! If I fuck you, will you go back to your ship?"

"Just once, or-"

Garak rubs his temples. "Are we really negotiating number of orgasms?" He asks in despair. "You can have two, and then you're leaving."

Dukat nods frantically. He starts to unzip his pants.

"No!" Garak says. "On the bed!"

Dukat scrambles to the bed. Garak follows at a more sedate pace. By the time he gets there, Dukat has already undressed. Garak takes his time with his shirt, and starts to fold it. "Are you serious?" Dukat says incredulously. Garak takes even longer with the rest of his clothes, just to spite him.

By the time he climbs onto the bed, a dark splotch has already formed under Dukat on the duvet. Garak looks down at it and sneers. He pushes Dukat's leg up and slides directly in. Dukat is ready enough, all things considered. And if he's not, well... don't play with fire. Dukat keens and squeezes the base of his cock to stop himself from coming.

"I didn't say you could do that," Garak says, snatching Dukat's hand off his cock. "Two orgasms as they happen naturally."

“Garak,” Dukat protests, nearly screaming with frustration. He’s so wound up that he knows he won’t last. And he doesn't want it to end so soon. "Garak, please, either let me prolong it, or give me more than two, please just-" Garak fucks into him hard, fingers digging into his thighs, and Dukat cuts off with a moan, and then comes.

"That's one," Garak says. "If you want the second to last longer, you'll stop begging, because I won't give you more than two, no matter how much you beg."

Dukat hisses through his teeth. He nearly begs anyway, but then stops himself at the last second. “Alright” he says, trying to calm himself. “Alright, fine.”

"This is your own fault," Garak says. "If you'd just been normal instead of an asshole, I would have fucked you as many times as you wanted, after our date."

“I already apologized. What more do you want from me?”

“Unbelievable.” Garak says. “You’re unbelievable. I don’t want to look at your infuriating face for one second longer.” Garak flips Dukat onto his stomach.

"Ow," Dukat says, and then pushes himself up onto hands and knees. Garak lines up, and then he’s pushing back in. He reaches down with his other hand to pump Dukat’s cock. “Hey! That’s not fair!”

"I'm being generous just agreeing to fuck you, so shut up."

Dukat shuts up. Garak then finds his sweet spot, and Dukat starts moaning, can't seem to make himself stop.

"Ugh, I don't want to hear you either," Garak says, annoyed. "Maybe I should gag you." Dukat gasps. He had never considered such a thing. He doesn't even know if he would like it. But Garak seems to know what he likes better than him, so maybe he would.

And now he can't help but picture it, Garak shoving a cloth into his mouth, tying it tightly at the back of his head to keep it in place. Dukat moans, and then comes again. " _Mother Cardassia’s mercy_ , Dukat, how many kinks do you have?"

"Less, before I first fucked you!" Dukat says, indignantly. He doesn't know why Garak is annoyed. Dukat is the one who has to live with the humiliation of it all. Garak ruins him a little more each day, each fuck, and doesn't seem to care, doesn't seem to even know.

Garak pulls out. "I gave you what you wanted, now leave," he says, standing to go retrieve his shirt.

Dukat rolls over to look at him speculatively. "You haven't come. I could help you with that, maybe?" He doesn't expect Garak to let him come again, but if he could just get his mouth on him--

Garak snorts. "Yeah, you wish."

Dukat shrugs languidly. "It was worth a shot."

"Just get dressed and go." Garak says.

"You expect me to walk back to my quarters in this?" Dukat asks incredulously, holding up his slick-soaked pants.

Garak’s mouth drops open, his over the top expression making it obvious he's pretending to be shocked. His tone is a mockery of innocence. "Your quarters? But _you_ said they were being _renovated?"_  

The bastard _knew_ dukat had been lying. He had let Dukat make a fool of himself, had been waiting for Dukat to do so.

"Oops?" Dukat says. He normally wouldn't make such a mistake, but he's still so desperate for Garak, so desperate that he can't think straight.

"You're an _asshole_ , you know that, right?” Garak sighs. Despite Dukat occasionally making up for his drawbacks when Garak gets to witness his humiliation, he’s still a lot more trouble than he's worth. Perhaps the gifts help too. And the assumption he'll _eventually_ be instrumental in Garak finally getting some decent food on this union forsaken station.

Maybe Dukat _was_ good for something after all? Giving a snort at the direction of his own thoughts, He sits down and puts his head in his hands. "What did I do to deserve you?"

"Oh, stop being so melodramatic," Dukat spits, angry and humiliated. He hates that Garak can reduce him to this, he _hates_ it.

"Just get out," Garak says tiredly.

\-----

Garak is chatting with Julian in his shop. Julian had come in to drop off some pants he needed altered, and then decided to stay and discuss the latest book Garak recommended. The door whooshes open behind Garak. He turns around, plastering on his bland customer service smile, which falls from his face when he sees who it is. "What are you doing here?" he asks.

"I-" Dukat is interrupted by a snicker. They both turn to look at Julian.

"What's so funny?" Garak asks.

"Oh, did you not see the pictures circulating the station? Gossip gets around fast, here, DS9. Small world I guess. Anyways, I heard it from Jadzia, and I think Jadzia heard it from Morn? And, uh, that's not particularly relevant, Is it? Here, uh, let me just show you." Julian takes out his padd and pokes around for a bit, before holding it up for Garak to see. Dukat darts forward and presses his hand over the screen. Julian irritably shoves his hand out of the way. Once the screen is revealed again, Garak stares at the picture, transfixed. It depicts Dukat making the walk from Garak's quarters back to his ship.

"Oh," Garak says. "I knew Dukat's pants were in a bad state, but I don't remember them looking quite so embarrassing." His lips twitch up in a smile.

Julian looks at him, pleased. "This is probably one of the top 5 most embarrassing walks of shame this station has seen in all the years I've been here," Julian says, eyes twinkling with mischief. Garak is startled into a laugh.

"Ok, enough!" Dukat says, blushing furiously. He's panting a bit, ostensibly out of embarrassment. But Garak can by now recognize the signs of arousal.

"Ah, Doctor," Garak says. "Would you be willing to continue our literature discussion at lunch tomorrow?" he asks.

"Oh, alright, see you then." Julian says agreeably, clapping Garak on the shoulder, and giving Dukat a knowing smirk. He exits the shop.

Garak waits for the door to close behind him, before turning to Dukat. "Are you serious?" he hisses. "You need to get this _kink_ under control!" he says, voice curling around the word with disgust.

"I can't help it!" Dukat protests indignantly. He thinks suddenly of why his pants were worse than Garak remembers. Dukat was still so desperate for him, on the walk home. He couldn't stop thinking about how much he still wanted him. Has been unable to, since.

"Well, try to calm down, or do you want to have to walk home in ruined pants again!"

"Yeah, because there's nowhere I can get a new pair of pants before leaving," Dukat says sarcastically, gesturing around.

"Oh, right," Garak says, feeling stupid. In his defense, Dukat's arousal is arousing him in turn. This hadn't happened yesterday because he was so angry, but now he knows he’s going to have to do something about it. Garak hisses at Dukat angrily, then flips the open sign to closed and locks the door. He drags Dukat into the dressing room, and then he's unbuckling Dukat's belt.

"Wait!" Dukat says. "I just wanted to know how I could make it up to you!"

"Forget it," Garak says. "You're an asshole. I should have expected you to be an asshole. And anyway, your utter public disgrace is going a long way towards making it up to me."

Dukat lets out a relieved breath. He’d thought he'd ruined things, had no idea how to salvage the situation. He had been panicking, because everything was spiraling out of his control. He keeps letting Garak take more liberties each day. But it'll be worth it, if he can just win. This is all for the bet.

He's pulled out of his thoughts when Garak starts sucking at his neck. Dukat gasps, arousal coursing through him, but he pushes Garak away.

"Do you want to do this or not," Garak asks, exasperated.

"Of course," Dukat says, as Garak unzips his pants, sticks his hand inside. "Garak," Dukat says, desperately, as Garak teases at his slit.

" _What_?" Garak snaps.

"Can we try the date again? I promise not to be an asshole this time," he says, trying to concentrate. He had come here for a reason, and it wasn't this.

"Impossible," Garak says, and starts to coax his cock out.

"Garak, come on," Dukat says, grinding against his hand.

"Okay, sorry. If I go on a date with you, will you let me fuck you right now?" he asks, and wraps his hand around Dukat's cock, stroking him in long, slow pulls.

"Wow," Dukat says, breath hitching.

"What?" Garak asks.

"This again?" Dukat says in disbelief.

"Oh, right," Garak says, halting the movement of his hand. They stare at each other. "Ok but can we make that trade again?" he asks hopefully.

Dukat hesitates. He needs to win. But he's scared of what Garak does to him, of what Garak can make him do. He wants to reassert control, stop letting Garak do these things to him. His thoughts grind to a halt when Garak slips a finger inside him, and then two. Dukat moans, and throws a hand against the wall to steady himself. " _Yes_ ," he says, desperately. "Yes, you can fuck me."

"Excellent," Garak says, and kisses him, sure and firm. 

\----

Garak flips the closed sign to open.

"For our date tomorrow," Dukat says.

"Oh God," Garak says, and flips the sign back to closed. "Ok, what is it?"

"I was thinking I'd drop by at 1800." Dukat says.

"What? No. That's too early. I don't want to have dinner at 1800."

"We won't be having dinner." Dukat says. "We keep not going out because we're too busy fucking. So I figured I'd come early so we'd have time to fuck, and then we could go out after."

"By the Union.”

"What?"

"Are we really gonna have scheduled sex, like a couple of dried up old bulbs whose marriage has lost its spark, desperately trying to reignite their old passion?"

Dukat stares at him. Garak stares back. "Ok fine, we don't have to do it."

"Yes... let's not."

"2100 then?"

"2100."

 


	5. Chapter 5

Garak and Julian are having lunch in the Replimat the next day when Jadzia approaches them. "Julian, hi! I've been looking for you."

"And here I am! What do you need?"

"Are you free tonight? I need something to do. Can we hang out?"

"Yeah, sure. Movie in your quarters?"

"No. I can't be in my quarters. Garak and Dukat have a date tonight."

"I'm sorry. How are those two things related?" Julian asks, brow furrowing.

"Well. Whenever they have a date, they just stay in and fuck instead, and I don't need to hear that," Jadzia says breezily.

"Well I  _ never _ !” Garak scoffs. “...We  _ are _ actually going on a date this time,  _ for your information,  _ though _. _ " 

"Yeah. That's what you said last time, and look what happened."

Julian shoots Garak an amused smile. Garak glares back at him. Julian turns back to Jadzia. "Hmm. Ok. Your quarters are out. Well, I'll think of something, and let you know."

"Great!" Jadzia says. "See you tonight."

"Yeah, see you."

\----

The door buzzes. Garak opens the door. Dukat smiles at him, and holds out his arm for Garak to take. Garak ignores the proffered arm and sighs. "Let's get this over with," he says, stepping out into the hallway and closing the door. Dukat lowers his arm, and slides a hand onto Garak's waist instead. "No," Garak says, moving out of arms reach.

Dukat, undeterred, follows him and puts his hand back on Garak's waist. Garak sighs and decides it's not worth the effort of rebuffing him again. Overall, Garak does not have a good track record of rebuffing Dukat; he’d be a fool to think things - namely Dukat - would change at this point.

Once they finally get to the restaurant, their walking impeded by Dukat's insistence on, and failure to execute, a public display of affection that requires they walk in tandem, Dukat pulls out Garak's chair for him. "Why are you being weird?" Garak asks. He moves to sit in the other chair, the one Dukat has not pulled out, and flips open his menu. Then he lowers it to look questioningly at Dukat. "You’re still paying, right?" Dukat nods. Garak raises the menu back up, cautiously eyeing dukat over the top of it. 

_ And now _ Dukat’s trying to make small talk. Garak  _ hates _ small talk, and he hates  _ Dukat _ . Garak gives curt answers, hoping Dukat will take the hint, and shut up. Dukat does not. The waiter comes to take their orders, and Garak doesn't want to suffer through any more of Dukat's insipid chatter, so he excuses himself and escapes to the bathroom, once his order is placed. 

He pulls his padd out of his pocket and texts Julian.

"Julian, help me, this date is awful."

"OH HEY YOU ACTUALLY MADE IT!"

Garak looked at the screen, puzzled. While it was true that Julian was a rather excitable fellow, he did not tend to abuse capitalization. Garak is still looking at the screen in confusion, when another text comes through.

"Sorry, that was Jadzia. I managed to get the padd back from her, but on the condition I relay her message, which is 'good on you for finally managing to leave the room.'" 

Garak sighs. "Well, I wish I hadn't."

"Okay, didn't need to know." Garak can actually hear the disgust.

"No! I didn't mean it like that!" he rushes to say.

"Sure."

Garak rolls his eyes. "Is sex all you think about?"

"Garak, I live next door to you, so I know for a fact you're one to talk."

"Jadzia, give the padd back to Doctor Bashir, please."

"No. Go back to your date."

"I don't want to. Dukat is so insufferable. Everything that comes out of his mouth is awful."

"Except when it's 'oh, Garak, harder' am I right?"

Garak turns off his padd. He goes back out to the table. He slides into his seat, and Dukat gives him a slow, sexy smile... He then ruins it with the next words that come out of his mouth. "You know, you're going to have to put out, if you're ordering the most expensive thing on the menu," he says with a wink.  _ An actual Guls damned wink. _

"Is it too late to change my order?" Garak asks, and Dukat throws his head back and laughs, looking back at Garak with a fond smile. Garak's lips twitch involuntarily up in an answering grin, which he then ruthlessly suppresses, disgusted with himself. He takes a sip of wine, and nearly spits it out again when he feels a sudden nudge against his leg. Is Dukat playing  _ footsie _ with him? Garak checks under the table, and yes, he is. "Excuse me," Garak manages to squeak out of his tightening throat, and retreats back to the bathroom.

Dukat makes a face and  wonders if Garak is having bowel troubles. Is that why Garak has been dragging his heels so much? Why he's been so irritable?

Garak manages to get inside the washroom, lock the door, and lean back against it.

"DUKAT TRIED TO PLAY FOOTSIE WITH ME!!" he texts. His hands are shaking a touch.

"Well, go play footsie back."

"Is this Julian or Jadzia?"

"Just go play footsie, Garak."

"No! Does this not seem weird to anyone??"

"You're on a date. What's weird about footsie on a date?"

"We don't like each other like that!! Don’t like each other at all" Garak knows he is abusing punctuation. But he thinks the occasion calls for it.

"Then why are you on a date?"

"I don't know?? I don't know how this happened. Dukat just wouldn't leave me alone about it, so I just let him take me out on a date. I don't know what he wants from me though."

"Have you thought about just asking him?"

"No, and I don't intend to."

"Maybe he has feelings for you."

"Don't be ridiculous."

Garak turns off his padd. He goes back to the table. Dukat gives him a fond smile. Garak is confused, almost upset.  _ What if they're right? What if he has feelings for me?  _ Dukat gives him a moment to get settled, and then nudges against his leg again. Garak kicks him, hard. Dukat looks at him in shock.  _ Wait, shit! _ Garak thinks in a panic. "No!" Garak says, "I didn't mean-" But Dukat is already roughly pulling him from his seat, and towards the bathroom. "Dukat, I didn't mean-"

Dukat locks the door and pushes Garak against the sink. "Did you mean it?"

"No, as I tried to tell you, twice."

Dukat leans down and kisses him. There is nothing strange about Dukat kissing him. But he has never kissed Garak like this before. Gently, almost reverently. Garak has not been kissed like this in a very long time. Dukat kisses him, kisses him again. Garak's breath hitches, and before he can stop himself, he's wrapping his arms around Dukat's neck and kissing him back in kind. After a few minutes, Dukat pulls back to press kisses down Garak's neck. Garak tilts his head back to give him more room. And then Dukat goes for his fly, and Garak's senses come back to him. He pushes Dukat away, and then runs from the bathroom, and out the restaurant.

Before he knows what he's doing, he finds himself at Julian's quarters. He pounds on the door. It soon opens, and he rushes in. Julian jumps back to give him room. Garak goes straight to the couch and collapses into it. Garak's not sure whether he's panting from exertion or panic. Probably both.

"Date didn't go well?" Jadzia asks, from behind him. Garak jumps. He'd forgotten she was with Julian.

Garak manages to collect himself enough to answer. He sighs. "From a certain point of view, it went  _ too  _ well."

Jadzia comes around the couch and sits next to him, and Julian sits on his other side. Garak flinches, feeling hemmed in. Julian stands back up, goes to sit in the armchair instead. "Tell us what's wrong," he prompts.

"I sort of… accidentally gave Dukat tentative permission to court me…"

"What," Julian and Jadzia say at the same time.

"How…" Julian says. "How do you accidentally give someone permission to court you."

" _ Tentative _ permission," Garak stresses. "And it's to do with Cardassian courting. When Dukat tried to play footsie--that's one of the many ways to signal intention to court. Reciprocating would mean yes. Doing nothing would mean no."

"So you… you reciprocated?" Julian asked disbelievingly. "That doesn't sound like you."

"No, I kicked him."

"Ah, yes, that sounds much more like you. So what's the problem?"

"That's an even more enthusiastic yes!" Garak says, panic again rising to the surface.

"You Cardassians are weird," Julian says, grimacing.

"It gets worse. After, he dragged me into the bathroom and-"

"We  _ don't _ want to know!" Jadzia says frantically.

"Kissed me," Garak finishes. "And I kissed back. Which even further solidifies the permission to court."

"Seal the deal with a kiss," Julian says, snorting.

"Oh shut up."

"No, but it's ok. You said it's only tentative permission. So, whatever gives certain permission, just don't do that."

Garak takes a deep breath and lets it out. "You're right, of course, I should be fine; all I have to do is not sleep with him." Julian and Jadzia burst into laughter. " _ What _ ?" he demands, standing up from the couch. "What's so funny?"

"Garak, all you  _ do _ is sleep with him." Jadzia says. Garak considers denying it, but then, she has firsthand evidence, so he can't. Not effectively.

Garak sits back down and puts his head in his hands, "Oh, I'm doomed," he says, mournfully.

He isn't quite sure what he's mourning yet.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know this is late, i'm sorry orz

Garak is in his shop the next day when Dukat strolls in and greets him with his usual, overzealous smile. Garak is used to that smile, but it's different, now that he knows Dukat wants to court him; it's harder to attribute to sheer performance. Garak feels unaccountably nervous.

"I'm leaving the station today." Dukat says, without preamble. Garak feels a pang of loss, and then panics,  _ Dukat leaving shouldn't make him feel anything _ , unless it's  _ relief _ . "I've stayed longer than I should," Dukat continues, "it might be a while until I can come visit again."

Garak feels indignation rising within him. "Why would you do this?" he demands.

Dukat looks at him, puzzled. "Do what?"

"Start courting me, and then run!" Garak spits.

Dukat gives him a slow, pleased smile. "So you intend to say yes," he says.

"No!" Garak says.  _ Its been a while since  _ embarrassment  _ was the cause of his flushed ridges _ . Garak puts his hands up as Dukat seems to lean over him, smirk widening. "That's not what I said! It just seems rude, that's all."

"Mmmm," Dukat says, thoughtfully. "Well, with our lifestyles, it's somewhat unavoidable. Anyway, I should get going, my crew is waiting."

"Oh," Garak says, feeling suddenly off balance, "You're leaving right now."

"Yes," Dukat says slowly, "I told you I was leaving."

"No, you said you were leaving _ today _ , that doesn't mean immediately."

"Sorry?" Dukat says. "But I need to go. I just wanted to stop in to say goodbye."

"That's it?” Garak asks incredulously. “That's your goodbye? I don't even get a goodbye kiss?" He realizes what he said, and immediately blushes. It's not that he likes Dukat. He just doesn't know when he'll be given a kiss like that again, and he wants another.

Dukat obligingly leans in to kiss him, just the way he did before. Garak sighs, kissing back. Too soon, Dukat is pulling away. "Goodbye, Elim," he says softly. He gives Garak’s shoulder a squeeze as he lets his hand slide off Garak’s neck, and then he's somehow made it to the door.

Dukat gives a quick glance over his shoulder as he heads out the shop's entrance. Garak, dazed, can only get out a "Bye," and then Dukat is gone, the doorchime still ringing in garaks ears.

\----

Garak picks morosely at his food. 

"Garak, what's wrong?" Julian asks.

Garak startles, and looks up at Julian. "Nothing is wrong." he says.

"No…" Julian says, "You've been down all week, ever since…" his eyes widen. "Ever since Dukat left the station!"

"I don't like what you're implying," Garak says.

"You  _ miss _ him!" Julian says. He points excitedly at Garak, as if he can barely keep his enthusiasm contained, the excess leaking out in the form of poorly wrangled limbs. 

" _ No _ ," Garak says emphatically.

Julian leans forward in his seat. The chair squeals as it's pushed backwards along the floor. "So are you gonna say yes?"

"No," he repeats. "Why would I want Dukat to court me? That's ridiculous."

"You know, by human standards, he's already been courting you."

"Well, luckily we're not human,” Garak says, brows scrunching.

"You should say yes," Julian says, grinning at him as he rubs his thumb on the smooth surface of his fork. To emphasize his point he lifts the utensil to shake it at Garak as he raises his eyebrows.

"I will do no such thing." He looks down at his plate. "We're both done eating, so I think I'll take my leave." He gets up and puts his dishes in the reclamator, and then turns to go.

"Say yes!" Julian shouts after his retreating back.

\-----

Garak spends a productive day in the shop, and then heads back to his quarters, intending to relax with the book Julian recommended at lunch today. On his way to his room he spots Jadzia exiting her own quarters. They look at each other. A grin spreads across Jadzia's face, eyes twinkling. "Say yes!" she says.

"Oh, God, Julian told you."

"Yes. I think it's rather sweet, that you miss him."

"I do  _ not _ ," Garak says, clenching his fist and lifting it, aborting a motion to hit the wall, "miss that insufferable asshole."

Garak takes a deep breath.

"Mmhmm." Jadzia says, crossing her arms, humoring him. "Say yes."

"I will not. But even if I wanted to, who knows when he'll be back on the station?"

"Call his comm unit."

"I don't know the number." Jadzia grins. " _ Not _ that I was going to call, even if I did!"  _ Garak could easily have gotten it, now that he thinks about it. He just... hasn't. _

"I do. Here,"  she says, and pulls out her padd to text it to him. Garak's padd beeps. He pulls it out to look at it. The text message from Jadzia blinks up at him. "Dukat's number <3333" it says, and then a string of numbers underneath.

"By the Union," Garak says. "Did you need to add hearts?"

"Call him," Jadzia implores, and then leaves.

Garak goes into his quarters. He opens the book Julian gave him. He puts down the book. "I will not call him," he says to himself, sternly. He reaches for the book again, but stops half way through the motion. Looking over at his comm unit, he sighs. Staring down at his fingers as he taps them on his thighs for a few moments, he just can't resist now that he’s so achingly aware he  _ can just call him. _ He dashes to the comm unit and types in Dukat's number. It takes a long time for Dukat to answer, so long that Garak nearly hangs up. But then Dukat's face fills the screen.

" _ What _ ," he snaps, looking annoyed. But then he sees that it's Garak, and gives a pleased smile. "Oh, hello. Miss me already?" Dukat says,  smiling sweetly. He looks genuinely pleased. Not at all smug, like Garak would expect. This makes his stomach twist with unease.

"I miss your dick, there's a difference." Garak says flippantly,  trying to cut away the soft moment.

"Mmm. Well, I'll take it."

They stare at each other. Garak doesn't know what to say. They've never really had a real conversation. "How are… things?" he asks, tentatively.

"Fine?" Dukat says, sounding puzzled. He doesn't ask how Garak is. Garak sighs.  _ This was a bad idea _ , he thinks.

"You know what, Dukat," he says. "I shouldn't have called. I clearly woke you, for which I apologize. I don't know what our time difference is."

"Oh, don't worry about that." Dukat says, waving a hand.  Garak’s eyes zero in on it. He suddenly remembers, with Cardassian clarity, what they felts like on his body. Dukat had been a disgustingly good lover. He knew what to do with every part of his body, but he was  _ especially _ good with his hands. 

He’s hit with memories of what those hands felt like on his body, what those fingers felt like inside him. His breathing speeds up, scales darkening in arousal. "What, really?" Dukat asks, surprised.

"I haven't gotten laid in a week!" Garak says, defensively.

"Right." Dukat says. "So do you want to…"

"Not if it counts as saying yes. Does it?"

"Yes, I think so." Dukat says.

"Then goodbye."

"Wait-"

Garak hangs up on him. He goes to the bed, undressing on the way. He lies down and teases at his slit, pretending it's Dukat touching him there. "Oh," he says, as he starts to evert. He thinks about the last time they'd slept together, in the dressing room, Dukat pressed up against the mirror begging to be fucked. Garak's cock slides out in one fluid motion, and Garak immediately wraps his hand around it. He works himself like this for several minutes, but it's not enough, so he puts a finger inside himself, and then two. It's better, but not as good as what he really wants. After several more minutes of this he groans in frustration. He is close, so close, but unable to tip over the edge.

His comm unit beeps. Garak drags himself over to it and answers the call with his voice. Dukat's face fills the screen. "What do you want, I'm busy." Garak says.

"Yes, I gathered," Dukat says, eyes flicking over his swollen ridges. Garak flushes.

"Why are you wearing that?" Garak asks. Dukat is in his central command uniform, when before he was wearing pajamas. Dukat gives him a dirty smirk.

"You didn't want to have video sex, so I thought I'd sweeten the deal." Garak rolls his eyes, and reaches out to end the call, forgetting about the slick coating his digits. "You couldn't come, could you?" Dukat asks. Garak lowers his hand.

"How did you know?"

"Because I can't come without you, either." Dukat says. Garak would think he's lying, except for how Dukat blushes after saying it. "So that's why I hope you'll do this with me. I've been thinking of it for a while, kicking myself because I had forgotten to leave you my comm number."

Garak hesitates. "I don't want to say yes, to courting," he says.

Dukat looks at him steadily. "Then I won't count it. I'm willing to bend the rules for you."

Garak hesitates. He really shouldn’t, no matter what Dukat says. It’ll be a debt he doesn’t want to repay. But then his cock pulses, and the decision is made for him.  "Alright. Then let's do this."

"Excellent," Dukat says, smiling.

"Get your clothes off," Garak orders.

"Oh? But you like this uniform."

"Yes, but it's been days, and I want to see you. All of you."

Dukat grins, and starts undressing. Garak gets a towel so he won't mess up his desk chair, and then sits down and puts his hand back on his cock.

\-----

Calls between himself and Dukat become a regular thing. They don’t say much, which suits Garak just fine. It seems a rather expensive way to get your rocks off, but Dukat is footing the bill, so Garak doesn’t care. Well, he did feel guilty one time; he fell asleep without hanging up, and woke up to discover that Dukat had done the same. He shudders  to think how much that call had cost. But then he remembers what an asshole Dukat’s been to him over the decades, and the guilt vanishes. Dukat doesn't bring it up, so neither does Garak.

The one time Garak called Dukat instead of the other way around, because he had had a bad day, and wanted company, Garak panicked, because in the past he would have gone to Julian when he was lonely, but it had not even crossed his mind. He hung up immediately, and ignored the comm unit when Dukat promptly called back. He ignored Dukat’s next few calls after that, but answered the fourth one, because he was so wound up that he desperately needed release.

After he had come, he told Dukat in no uncertain terms to stop calling him. Dukat gave him an ironic salute, and then hung up. Garak lasted for about a month, but caved, and called him, disgusted with himself. He was even more disgusted when the first glimpse of Dukat’s face warmed him from the inside out. He didn’t call again, but could not resist answering when Dukat did, no matter how he tried.

He tries to hate it, but... It’s the happiest he’s ever been. 


	7. Chapter 7

"He's back on the station." Garak nearly drops his padd. He tightens his grip on it, knuckles whitening, as he stares at his text from Julian. He realizes his hands are shaking. Garak feels an uncomfortable swirl of emotions. Relief, longing, and then annoyance, because Dukat had not informed him of this visit. Garak feels a nauseating stab of panic. He had not admitted it to himself, but he was waiting for his moment. And now it has come, and he’s not ready.

He carefully puts the padd down, and bustles about his quarters, tidying up. And then he realizes he's being presumptuous. His first assumption was that Dukat had come to the station to see him, but now he realizes that was rather arrogant of him, wasn't it? Dukat’s probably here for some completely unrelated reason. He might not even visit Garak at all. He would have told him, if he intended to, wouldn’t he? Garak’s hands are still shaking. He picks up his padd. "Want to grab a drink at Quark's?" he texts to Julian. He needs to get out of his quarters, out of his own head, where the same thoughts just churn over and over, circling each other endlessly.

"Am I really the person you want to hang out with right now?" Julian asks. Garak doesn't answer. His fingers tap against the screen, as he tries to figure out a way to explain that Dukat is not coming, that he doesn’t _want_ him to come. Another text comes in. "Yeah, sure. Meet you there."

Garak sighs in relief, and tugs his shirt over his head, slipping a nicer one on. And then with a disgusted grunt, he realizes what he’s done, and puts the first shirt back on. He forces himself to leave, walking quickly to Quarks. He bites harshly at his lip, realizing how... conspicuous he's acting, and slows his pace.

He arrives, and keeps his eyes firmly ahead, not allowing himself to search the crowd for Dukat. He spots Julian sitting at the bar and slides into the barstool next to him. Julian looks over at him, smiles, and then orders their drinks. He looks unusually put together, which piques Garak’s interest. He is just opening his mouth to inquire about it, when Quark puts his glass of kanar in front of him, and then Garak forgets the question, and throws it quickly back. He slams the empty glass down on the counter, and Julian startles. He looks at Garak and raises an eyebrow. Garak's hands are still shaking. He orders another drink. He tries to take his time with this one.

Julian nudges him with his elbow. Garak suppresses a jump, and then looks questioningly at him. Julian jerks his head to the side, and Garak looks at where he's indicated. Dukat is walking in, saying something to one of his crew. Garak nearly drops his drink. Butterflies flit wildly around his stomach. He jerks back around and raises a hand to order a third drink. Julian catches his wrist before he can. "I don't think you want to be drunk for this," he says. Garak rolls his eyes. Julian drains his glass, puts down some money for his own drinks, and then stands up.

"Where are you going?" Garak asks.

"I don't think you want me here for this, either," Julian tells him. He claps Garak on the back, and then takes his leave.

Garak runs a hand through his hair, gripping nervously at the ends. "Fancy seeing you here," Dukat says, and slides into the bar stool Julian was occupying moments before.

Garak looks over in surprise, and then rolls his eyes. "Your lines haven't gotten any better, I see."

"Yes, well,” Dukat says, giving him a cocky smile, “they worked well enough the first time.”

Garak hates that it makes his heart skip a beat.

"Simply because, _mercifully_ , I was drunk the first time,” Garak says, disinterested. "But you'll have to do better, now that I'm not."

"Hmmm," Dukat says, "well, we can remedy that." He orders two glasses of kanar, and then then turns back to Garak. Garak realizes he's picking nervously at his nails, and clasps his hands together tightly to make himself stop. Quark puts their drinks in front of them. Garak snatches his up, but then forces himself to calm, and takes a small sip.

Garak looks at Dukat, and he _wants._ But he refuses to invite Dukat back to his quarters. He won't make the first move. Dukat turns his head and meets Garak's eyes. Garak flicks his gaze away. Dukat drags his stool closer, and Garak can smell the kanar on his breath. He must have had a few drinks before he came here, Garak realizes.

He takes another sip of his drink, and startles when Dukat slings an arm around him. Garak momentarily leans into it, the heat of kanar in his belly pushing him to seek out Dukat's less artificial feeling warmth. Garak realizes himself, however, and hisses like a startled cat, throwing him off. Dukat puts his arm back, leans in to press kisses to Garak’s neck.

Garak pushes at him.

“Stop,” he hisses. “People can _see_ us.”

“You didn’t mind, before.” Dukat says against his neck. The heat of his breath fans distractingly across Garak’s skin.

“I was too drunk to care, before. I’m not, now.”

"I'm sorry. It's just that I missed you. Did you miss me?"

"You wish," Garak says, scoffing.

"Mmm," Dukat says, and kisses his way up his neck to his mouth, which he then greedily tasted. Garak is helpless to resist. He kisses back for a few long moments. He hadn’t forgotten that people could be watching. But Dukat is intoxicating, his whole world narrows to the press of his lips against his own.

Someone clears their throat, and Garak grabs hold of himself, and pushes Dukat away again.

"That's enough," Garak says sternly.

Dukat looks at him steadily. "Come back to my quarters," he says.

Garak hesitates. He wants to move this to somewhere they can have privacy. But going to Dukat's quarters means risking running into his crew, and Garak doesn't want that. So he says "No, my place instead?" Dukat nods. He pays their tab, and then motions for Garak to lead the way. Garak starts walking to his quarters, Dukat falling into step. Garak expects Dukat to touch him in some manner, but he doesn't. For some reason, this makes Garak skittish.

They get to Garak's quarters, and he types in his access code, proud that his hands don't shake. And then he's walking in, Dukat behind him, and the door slips shut. They look at each other. "Would you like a drink?" he asks, and starts for the liquor cabinet.

"I've had enough drinks," Dukat says. "I just want you."

Garak turns back to look at him, and swallows nervously. _You have me_ , is on the tip of his tongue, and then he panics. _Where did that come from?? "_ Well, I want one," he says, and pours himself a generous measure. He throws it back, and then pours another.

"Slow down," Dukat says, and puts his hand over Garak's.

"I will, if you join me," Garak says. Dukat nods, and removes his hand. Garak looks down at it. His hand tingles, where Dukat had touched it. Or maybe it's from the all the drinks. He's had four, he realizes. He wants Dukat to touch his hand again, he realizes. He downs his fifth drink.

"You said you would slow down," Dukat says, exasperated.

"Nevermind," Garak says licking his lips. "I'm done now."

"Mmm," Dukat says. "Alright then." He gets close and pulls the empty tumbler out of Garak’s hand, sets it down on the table. And then he leans in and kisses him. Garak's breath catches, and he immediately kisses back, nipping at his lips. After a few minutes, Garak pushes Dukat towards the couch. Dukat lets him. He pushes his shoulders until he sits down, and then he straddles him. He leans down to kiss him again, and Dukat tangles his fingers in his hair as he kisses back. Garak had missed this. He hadn't missed Dukat, but he had missed this.

Dukat breaks the kiss, and tilts Garak's head back. He sinks his teeth into Garak's neck, and Garak starts to evert. "Oh," he says, desperately. "Touch me."

Dukat pulls back. "I've made enough exceptions for you," he says. "This time, I won't. If you want this, it'll mean saying yes."

Garak growls, smacks at Dukat's chest, annoyed. "You wait until _now_ to tell me this?" he hisses. "You _bastard_!"

Dukat chuckles. "Well, what'll it be?" Garak hesitates. Dukat resumes sucking at his neck.

"Stop that," Garak hisses. "I can't _think_ with you doing that." Dukat stops, but leaves his lips pressed to Garak's neck. Garak can feel his hot breaths against his neck, and it causes him to evert even farther. "Ugh, fuck," he says, frustrated. He wants this, has wanted this for months. He doesn't know how long Dukat will stay on the station. If Garak doesn't take what he's offering now, it may be months before his next opportunity. It's that that decides him. "Okay, fine," he says.

"What was that?" Dukat asks.

"You heard me," Garak says, waspishly.

"I want to hear you say it."

" _Yes_. Yes, alright! You can court me, you bastard, I accept. Now, _fuck_ me." Dukat grins, and then goes back to biting at his neck. He spends long moments lavishing his attention on a single scale, and then moves on to the next, and the next. By the time he gets to the fourth scale, Garak has everted fully, and now he's aching. "Dukat, _enough_ ," he says, desperately. "I want to ride you." Dukat chuckles. " _What_?" Garak snaps.

"I don't think you have enough coordination for that right now," he says.

"Fuck you, I-" he stands up, and nearly falls back down again. He puts a hand on Dukat's shoulder to steady himself. "Ok, maybe I don't," he admits grudgingly. He pulls Dukat towards the bed, instead.

\-------

Garak wakes up and groans as he presses at his eyes; he has a splitting headache. "Oh, Jesus, not again," he says. He sits up and looks over at Dukat, and narrows his eyes, annoyed. Garak considers the night before, and Dukat himself. Garak's irritation is only gaining fuel as it’s all coming back to him, and he slaps Dukat awake.

"What the fuck was that for??" Dukat asks, outraged.

"It doesn't count!" Garak says. "I was drunk! You manipulated me!"

"The circumstances don't matter," Dukat says, rubbing at his cheek. "What matters is the fact that you said yes."

"Oh God. I hate you," Garak says, vehemently.

"Yeah, yeah," Dukat says, lying back down. "While you have your little crisis, I'm going back to sleep."

"No!" Garak says, "Get the fuck out!" He throws Dukat's shirt at him, and then his pants. The buckle from Dukat's belt smacks him across the face, and Dukat yelps.

"Ow! Fuck! Stop _throwing_ shit at me!" he shouts. But he puts his clothes on, and leaves.

Garak goes to his padd. He has an unread message from Julian, which he opens. "Did you say yes?"

"Unfortunately," Garak texts back. "You were right. I should have stopped at two drinks."

"I'm always right," Julian says.

"I tried to tell Dukat it didn't count, because I was drunk. He wouldn't listen."

"In vino veritas," Julian says. Garak looks at this message, puzzled. This is not a phrase he's ever come across before. He looks it up on the station's database.

"Oh, _fuck_ you," he texts. "You're wrong. I didn't mean it."

"I'm always right," Julian says, simply. Garak turns off his padd, and goes to start his day.


	8. Chapter 8

Garak and Julian had decided on brunch today, rather than their usual lunch. Garak takes a sip of his hot fish juice as Julian looks on, wrinkling his nose in disgust. His face clears, however, and he attempts to get the conversation going; “I haven't seen your boyfriend around, lately."

"Has he left the station already?" Garak demands, freezing and looking up suddenly. He flinches at his own voice, and looks abashed. “Sorry.” His words had come out much louder than he intended.

Julian raises his eyebrows pointedly. "No, his ship is still here."

Garak lets out a relieved breath.

Julian continues, "I just thought it was odd that he's apparently holed up in there. He did come here just for you, after all."

Garak pauses bringing his fork to his mouth and looks at him, scoffing. “He did not.”

“No,” Julian says, mouth curling up in a slow smirk. “But for the split second you believed me, it felt really good, didn’t it?”

“Julian,” Garak says, exasperated, “Shut up.”

“Do you talk to your boyfriend this way too?” Julian asks.

“Ugh. He’s _not_ my _boyfriend_ .” Garak gesticulates with his fork to make his point. He looks down at his plate as he loses his momentum, defending himself. “What kind of childish... _Boyfriend._ ” Garak huffs.

Julian raises his eyebrows again. "Well he's your _something_. You're courting."

"God, don't remind me," Garak says, rubbing a hand down his face. Julian smirks at him. "What?" Garak says.

"You're a fake bitch," Julian says leaning in across the table towards Garak, amused.

Garak recoils, visibly. "I beg your pardon!"

Julian smiles and practically vibrates. He seems to think he’s solved some mystery, or at least that he’s gotten one up on Garak. Julian wags a finger in his general direction. "You act like you are an unwilling participant in this whole courting business, but then panic when you think your boyfriend has left the station." Leaning back in his chair, looking smug, he crosses his arms and slides one leg to rest upon the other.

Garak is speechless, but manages to splutter out a weak, "Stop _calling_ him that,"  voice breaking half way through his command. Garak waves a hand in the air, trying to impart just how... _Sincere_ he is. He eventually manages to pull himself together enough to continue defending himself, Julian sitting back and enjoying the show all the while. Garak looks julian in the eye. "And I _am_ an unwilling participant! He tricked me, I told you this! I was drunk!"

"Garak, he didn't force those drinks down your throat."

Garak huffs, but quiets and picks at his nails as he formulates his response. "No, I suppose he didn't." Julian smirks at him again. " _What_ ," Garak snaps.

"You want to go see him," Julian says.

Garak says nothing. He does want to, but he refuses to admit to it.

Julian rolls his eyes. "Just go, Garak." Garak hesitates. Julian sighs exasperatedly. "Garak, go see him. He'll probably only be here a few days, before he leaves, and then he might be gone for months."  Garak considers that, and ultimately it's that that decides him. He stands up, nodding to Julian, and puts his dishes in the reclamator, then heads out.

Now on the promenade, he jolts, realizing he doesn't actually know where to go. He doesn't want to go to Dukat's ship. And he doesn't know Dukat's padd number. He decides to go back to his quarters, and try Dukat's comm. Dukat answers. "Yes?" he asks, looking peeved.

Garak suddenly doesn't know what to say. He's never had to ask to see Dukat before, Dukat had always come to him. Tentatively, "Can we... Spend some time together?" He watches Dukat's face carefully for any changes, for better or worse. His nose scrunches up.

"Really?" Dukat asks, the annoyance clear in his voice, as well. "You kick me out, and then a few hours later want me back?"

Garak sighs. "I don't want to fight," he says. He wrings his hands. "We don't have much time together, so it's-" he cuts himself off.

"It's what?" Dukat asks. Garak hesitates, because the next word out of his mouth was going to be ' _precious_.'

"Stupid," he says, instead. "We shouldn't waste what little time we have."

"Mmm," Dukat says. "I guess you're right. So, where did you want to hang out?"

"Here, I suppose." Garak says.

"Alright," Dukat says. "I'll be over in half an hour." And cuts the call.

Garak lets out a breath, and plays nervously with a strand of his hair. He goes to grab his padd and tries to get some work done. He has difficulty concentrating, but manages to finish a design anyway. The door buzzes. Garak throws aside the padd and goes to answer the door.

Dukat smiles at him. Garak lets out a relieved breath. He was worried Dukat would still be mad at him. Dukat walks in, and hands him a box. "What's this?" Garak asks.

"Just open it," Dukat says.

Garak does. "Oh!" he says, in surprise. It's a courting necklace. And it's beautiful. Garak hadn't thought Dukat was capable of picking out something so tasteful. Garak is charmed. And then, he puts it down.

"Well? Aren't you going to put it on?" Dukat asks.

"I'd rather not," Garak says.

Dukat rolls his eyes. "You aren't still on about me tricking you into this are you?"

"So you admit it!" Garak says, feeling vindicated. He jabs his index finger into Dukat's chest.

"No," Dukat says, looking down at the digit, annoyed, "I just know that's how you've been thinking of it."

Garak flicks his eyes away, and lowers his hand. He moves to finger thoughtlessly at the necklace.

"Put it on," Dukat says. Garak hesitates. Dukat lets out an annoyed huff. "If you are so reluctant about this, then just break it off."

Garak feels a pang. According to tradition, if he breaks it off, he won't get a second chance. He doesn't care about that, but it means the sex will be gone, too, and that he _does_ care about. Garak flicks his eyes back up to Dukat. "Put it on for me?" he asks, shyly.

Dukat looks at him in shock. It's a signal of intent. A rather strong one. Garak feels suddenly embarrassed, unsure of why he asked, regretting it. But then Dukat's lips quirk up in a smile, and Garak remembers. Dukat motions him to turn around, and he does. Dukat puts the necklace on Garak, clasps it at the back, and then rests his hands on his shoulders, finger absently caressing a ridge there. Garak has to suppress a shiver. He turns back around. They look at each other. "Want to go out?" Dukat asks.

"Go out where? It’s too early for dinner. And there’s not much else to do at this hour.”

“Yeah, but we spend all our time in your room. Let’s go for a walk.”

Garak gives a disinterested shrug. He’d prefer to stay in. “I’d rather not.”

Dukat looks angry for a second, but then his face clears, and Garak thinks he must have imagined it. “Please? I get restless, being cooped up in my ship all the time. I want to stretch my legs.”

“Alright, fine.”

Dukat smiles.

\-----

Dukat grabs his hand. Garak shakes it off. “What are you doing?”

“We’re courting.”

“Unfortunately.”

Dukat rolls his eyes. “It’s like pulling teeth, with you.”

“What did you expect,” Garak says defensively, “you forced me into it.” Dukat scowls at him. Garak laughs.

“What?”

“You look ridiculous when you do that. You’re trying to be intimidating, but you just look--”

Dukat suddenly smiles, waving at someone over Garak’s shoulder. Garak turns to look at them. “Who’s that?”

Dukat kisses his cheek. Garak punches him.

\-----

“Why are you following me,” Garak demands.

“I need a dermal regenerator.” Dukat whines.

“Go to medbay.”

“I can’t. My second is there.”

“So?”

“Just let me use yours.”

“I think not.”

“If you do, I’ll let you fuck m-” Garak slaps a hand over his mouth. “Ow.”

“How many times do I have to tell you to not do this in public.”

“Buy my silence.”

Garak rolls his eyes. “Alright, come here.”

\----

“Stop looking at me like that,” Garak says sourly, holding the regenerator to Dukat’s cheek.

“Can’t help it. You have beautiful eyes.”

Garak sighs. “You said you’d shut up.”

“I said I’d shut up _in public_.”

“Have I ever told you I hate you?”

“At length.” Dukat pushes the regenerator away, brings his hand to his face to test the newly healed skin.  He picks up the regenerator and presses it to Garak’s forehead.

“What are you doing?”

“Healing your sour attitude.”

A laugh is startled out of Garak. Dukat grins, drops the dermal regenerator, and kisses him silent. He leads him to bed.

\-----

Garak lays panting on the bed. After allowing himself a moment to recover, he gets dressed. They've wiped off, and showering after _every_ bout between the two of them simply isn’t _economical._ Dukat slips on his clothes as well, and turns to leave. "Wait," Garak says, catching his wrist. "Stay?" he asks.

"Stay?" Dukat asks. "But you always kick me out, after."

"Yes, I know." Garak says. "But we're courting now. We should probably talk, get to know each other."

"Um, okay," Dukat says, and sits back down. "What do you want to talk about?"

"Um," Garak says, and suddenly can't think of a single thing to say. "How's your mission going?"

"I'd rather not talk about work," Dukat says.

"Right," Garak says. "You're right. This was a bad idea."

"I didn't say that," Dukat says. "I was just surprised." And then he looks at Garak expectantly.

"Um," Garak says, trying to think. And then his eyes land on his kotra board. Maybe if they had something to do, it would make it easier, since there'd be less pressure on them. "Would you like to play kotra?" he asks.

"You want to play board games," Dukat says, staring at him blankly.

"What?" Garak asks. "Afraid you might lose?"

Dukat scoffs at him. "Set up the board," he says.

Garak brings it over to the couch and motions Dukat to come sit down, the board between them. He makes Dukat set up the pieces, and sitting back to strategize. Both for the game, and for their current social predicament. They make their opening moves on the board, and then Garak makes his, rather more important, opening move, striking up a conversation.

"Are you trying to distract me?" Dukat asks.

"What, you can't play and talk at the same time?" Garak teases.

Dukat rolls his eyes. "Goading me won't always work, you know."

"It has so far," Garak says, with a smirk.

Dukat grunts, but lets himself be drawn into conversation. He's a better conversationalist than Garak expected. Garak feels a pleased flutter. _This isn't so bad,_ he thinks.

They dance about eachother, one move to counter the last, next a futile strike at the other player, attempting to get ahead. On tongue and in the pieces scattered to the winds, bending to their masters whims, the battle went on. Garak was ahead, but not by much.

Garak is finally near to assembling a glimpse of an image of their future together. He can _maybe_ conceive of this working out...

And then Dukat ruins it by flipping the board.

"Oh, yes, very mature," Garak says. "Just because you were losing--"

"I wasn't losing." Dukat says. "I could have salvaged that."

"Then why did you flip the board?"

"It was an accident. Muscle spasm."

"Uh-huh." Garak says. "Pick it up."

"No," Dukat says.

"You're a child." Garak says. "Clean up your mess."

"Nope." Dukat says.

"Oh, God." Garak says. "Ok, stop pouting."

"I'm not pouting," Dukat says, pouting. And then he scootches forward and puts his head in Garak's lap. Garak sighs. “Are you drunk?” Dukat grabs Garak's hand and puts it in his hair, silently demanding to be petted. “ _No_.” Garak is suddenly reminded of those cat videos Julian forced on him, and laughs. "What?" Dukat asks. He furrows his brow.

"You just reminded me of a cat."

"What's a cat?"

"An earth animal."

"Oh,” He relaxes, “I imagine it's fierce, right? Big and intimidating?"

"It's--let me just show you," Garak says, and shoves Dukat's head off his lap so he can go fetch his padd. Dukat grunts as his head thunks on the floor. Garak comes back to sit on the couch, and then finds the link Julian sent him. He opens the video, and holds the padd between them so Dukat can watch. The cat in the video, angry at not being paid attention to, looks its human dead in the eye as it uses its paw to shove a glass of water off the table.

Dukat looks at him in outrage. "You're comparing me to that?"

"Bratty," Garak says. "Stubborn. Full of itself. I think it fits."

"I am nothing like a cat," Dukat insists.

"I think you are. They're cute. You're cute." Garak doesn't mean it, but he knows the comment will inflame Dukat. It does.

"I'm not _cute_." Dukat says, blushing angrily. He balls up his fists. 

"Adorable," Garak says.

"I'm not--fuck off," Dukat says, smacking the padd out of his hand. And then he looks down at his own hand, as if it had betrayed him. They stare at each other awkwardly. Dukat blushes harder.

Garak reaches out to stroke a darkening scale absently with his thumb. "You are," he says, softly, but realizes he means it, this time.  He leans in and kisses him. Dukat stiffens in shock, and Garak suddenly realizes that apart from their brief goodbye kiss, they've never done this,  save prelude to sex. Garak, embarrassed, starts to pull back, but Dukat puts a hand to the back of his neck to hold him in place, kissing him back. Garak sighs, sinking into the kiss. He’s surprised to find he enjoys this, kissing Dukat just for the sake of it. Gripping Dukat's hair fiercely, he tilts his head to adjust the angle of the kiss, and goes at it with fervor. Dukat allows this for a minute or two, but then pulls back, and puts his head back in Garak's lap.

"Finish the story," he says. "The one you were telling me, before…" he trails off.

"Before your 'muscle spasm'?" Garak asks, lip twitching. Dukat grunts. "Mmm, alright," Garak says, and strokes absently at Dukat's hair. They talk for a good while, until the moment is broken when his stomach rumbles. Garak looks down at it, embarrassed.

Dukat gives him fond smile. "Go eat," he says. "I have some errands I need to run, anyway."

"Okay," Garak says, and then, before he loses his nerve. "Come back, after?"

"Come back? It's getting late."

"I know," Garak says. "I was hoping you could spend the night. You never have, not sober, so I wanted to--" _know what it's like, to wake up next to you, now that I actually want to_ , "--see what it's like."

Dukat looks over at him in surprise. Garak blushes. They don't have this kind of relationship. Or, well, he supposes they do, now. Garak fingers the necklace. Dukat's eyes flick down to it, and then back up. He smiles. "Sure."


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just got a commission of the scene in ch 3 when dukat carries garak to bed, check it out at http://castellan-garak.tumblr.com/post/175751188031/petimetrek-commission-for-castellan-garak

Garak hears a gentle beep. Snuffling, he rolls over, and easily drifts back into to sleep. He's pulled into consciousness yet again when it beeps for the second time, and then twice more. "Ugh, Dukat, can you-" he rolls over, and his hand lands on soft bedding rather than warm scales. He sits up and looks over to the empty side of the bed. "Asshole," he mutters. He then yawns, and goes to look for his padd. He finds he has four unread messages from Julian, and raises an eyeridge in surprise. He opens them.

"Do you work today?"

"Nevermind, doesn't matter. Take the day off."

"Don't leave your room."

"Garak? I think I should come over."

Garak doesn't know what to make of these odd messages. He taps at his pad, messaging Julian back that he'll see him later. He turns off his padd and puts it in the charger. Garak goes to take a shower and brush his teeth, feet clicking about on the cool floor as he goes about his morning hygiene rituals. Walking to his closet, hair dripping onto the towel resting lightly on his shoulders, he fingers his skin-warmed courting necklace as he decides what to wear. He wants to go find Dukat. Garak selects a shirt that he knows brings out his eyes, and slips it on, deftly doing up the hidden fastenings of the garment. He pulls on some pants, and goes to find his comb. He tugs the tangles out of his hair, then bends down to put on his socks and shoes. There's a smudge on one of them, and he wipes at it with his thumb for a moment, but is struck with the realization that Dukat wouldn't care if his shoes were smudged. Garak realizes he's fussing, takes a deep breath, and forces himself to leave his quarters.

"Garak!" Garak looks over in surprise to see Julian, slightly out of breath. "Why haven't you answered my texts?"

"My padd was almost out of battery. I put it on to charge." Julian runs a hand down his face. He looks stressed. "Is everything alright?" Garak asks in concern.

"There's something I need to tell you." Julian says.

"Can it wait? I was just about to go find Dukat," Garak says.

Julian grimaces. "It's about Dukat." he says. He makes a move to place his palms on Garak's chest in order to push him backwards, but hesitates. A look crosses his face and he seems to conclude the action was warranted after all. He pushes Garak back inside his quarters, not yet locked door sliding open as it senses them near. Garak lets him.

"What's going on?" Garak asks.

"Dukat and his crew are at Quark's. They've been doing a lot of talking. About you."

"Me? What about me?"

Julian hesitates, looking intensely uncomfortable. Julian grimaces and opens his mouth to speak a number of times, only to close it, unsure of the precise words necessary to convey what he’s obligated to.

"Spit it out," Garak says, starting to get nervous.

"Ok, um," Julian says, taking a deep breath. "There was this bet. Well, two bets. So, the first time you slept with Dukat? Well, apparently he only did that, because, uh, some guy named uhh... Pervy? No. Pervor? Pevor? Something like that anyways, bet him he couldn't."

"Chaos," Garak curses, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Wait, you said two bets. What's the second one?"

"You're not going to like this," Julian says. He looks mighty uncomfortable, his body’s usual endearing awkwardness intensified through his rigidity.

"I already don't like this," Garak says, "so just tell me."

"This other guy, Balor, bet Dukat he couldn't get you to fall in love with him. So… everything these past few months, was, ah, possibly... probably just him trying to win."

Garak gives a disbelieving shake of his head. “No. That can't be true.” He stands up, going for the door. “You said he was at Quark’s?”

“Don't leave,” Julian says, grabbing his upper arm. Garak shakes Julian’s grip off, and opens the door, then steps out. “Garak, wait, I don't think you want to do this. At least take a moment to cool down. Please.”

Garak can't hear him over the roar of blood in his ears. They get to the promenade. Garak heads toward Quark's. He doesn't notice when Julian breaks off in a different direction.

Garak gets to Quark's, and storms in. He scans the crowd for the Cardassians, and spots them at the bar. Dukat looks over at him. Their eyes meet, and it's then that Garak knows without a doubt that it's true. Dukat's face is cold, cruel. After months of getting used to his warm smile, it's absence is like being splashed with a bucket of cold water.

Garak marches over. "So! It’s true." Garak demands.

"What’s true?" Dukat asks, furrowing his brow and swaying a bit, clearly drunk.

Garak's lip curls in disgust. "You just did all this for a bet? To get me to fall in love with you?"

"Mmm," Dukat says. "Yes. It was easier than I expected it to be."

"Don't be ridiculous. I'm not in love with you."

"Oh, I know," Dukat says. "But you're halfway there, already. And that's good enough. You paraded about the station in my courting necklace, you kissed me like you meant it, and then you asked me to stay the night." It does sound damning, when he lays it out like that, Garak realizes. "That was enough to win the bet. And after that, there was no need to continue this charade." He makes an odd hand gesture directed somewhere over Garak's head as he enunciates the word.

Garak's fists clench. He has never felt so humiliated. Everyone is staring, waiting to see how he'll react. By now all conversation in the bar has stopped, and the only noise is Garak's heavy breathing, as he tries to control his rage. So what Dukat says next is very clear.

"You know what the best part is? He didn't think I could do it, because you hated me so much. But I knew I could. You were so lonely and so miserable, all you needed was someone to show you some affection. Even if it was fake." And then he laughs, and snorts. "You really--you really thought I was in love with you! And that's all it took. You should have seen the way you looked at me. I've never seen anything so pathetic."

Before Garak can stop himself, he backhands Dukat, so hard that he falls off his bar stool and crumples to the ground. Garak drops to his knees and grabs Dukat by the collar, pulling him up so he can punch him, once, and then again. 

"Enough!" Someone barks, and then he's being pulled off of Dukat. Garak looks over to see Odo, and Julian behind him. 

"Called security on me, did you?" He says with a sneer. 

Dukat gets dizzily to his feet, and then spits blood onto the ground. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. Garak turns to look at him. "That felt good," he says. "But you know what felt even better? Watching the light leave your father's eyes, as I strangled him."

Dukat looks at him in shock, and then he's lunging at him. He's so drunk and so angry that it's easy for Garak to side step him. Dukat goes for him again, but then Odo is pulling him back. "That's enough." Odo says. Dukat drips blood on the floor. Odo looks down at it. "Go to the infirmary," he says.

Julian takes Dukat by the arm and leads him away. Garak turns to Odo. "I suppose you'll arrest me, now," he says. 

"Not unless he presses charges. Until we find out, I'm confining you to quarters."

As Garak's escorted back to his quarters, he realizes he's trembling. He walks through his doorway and looks back at Odo keying in some security code that would keep your average civilian in. The door slides shut. Garak waits a few moments to let Odo gain some distance, and then, he rips the necklace off and throws it at the door. He sinks into his couch and puts his head into his hands. He doesn't know what to do with himself. Some time later, the door buzzes. He ignores it. It buzzes again. "Fuck off!" he shouts.

"Garak, it's me." Julian says. "Please open the door."

Garak sighs, and goes to open it. "What do you want?" he asks.

Julian walks in. "I convinced Dukat not to press charges," he says.

"Great." Garak says flatly. "Thanks."

"Garak…" Julian says.

"What?"

Julian walks towards him, accidentally stepping on the necklace, and freezing. "Oh! I'm sorry," Julian says, carefully lifting his foot off the object, wincing and glancing it over for damage. The clasp was broken. “ Oh no..”

"Whatever."

"Garak, just...” exhale “Do you want to talk about it?"

"What's there to say?" Garak asks, sitting back down on the couch.

Julian gingerly picks up the necklace, and puts it on the coffee table, sitting down next to Garak. "You loved him," Julian says.

"Don't be ridiculous," Garak snaps. He needs something to do with his hands, so he reaches forward to hook the chain on the table with a finger, pulling the whole thing to where he can reach it. He starts to play absentmindedly with the necklace.

"Do you want me to get that fixed for you?" Julian asks.

"No," Garak says. "I'll probably throw it away."

"I wouldn't," Julian says. "You may end up regretting it."

"What I regret was ever developing feelings for him." Garak spits. "Oh," Garak realizes. "This is why you didn't want me to leave my room."

"Yeah," Julian says. "They were talking about it all morning."

Garak growls. "Dukat must think it's so funny, how stupid I am."

"You weren't. You aren't."

"Right," Garak says, laughing bitterly. "Didn't you hear what he said to me?"

"I wasn't there yet. When you started for Quark's, I had a feeling something was going to happen, so I went to fetch Odo. By the time we got there, you were already punching him."

"Ah," Garak says. "Well, by the end of the day, you'll have heard everything he said in exquisite detail. By the end of the hour, actually. You know how fast gossip travels across the station."

\------

Garak gets into bed. Face pressed to his pillow, he realizes the sheets still smell of Dukat. His heart clenches, and then he pushes the feeling away, fury overtaking him instead. He stands up and throws them into the reclamator, getting out fresh ones. He spots the necklace, and goes to grab it. He's about to throw it in the reclamator too, but hesitates. He doesn't want it, but he can always sell it. It's probably not worth much, but it's better than nothing. 

Garak stares at the necklace, indecisive. It occurs to him they'd never officially broken off their courting. He drops the necklace to the floor and goes to the comm unit, intending to get that taken care of. Dukat doesn't answer. Garak decides he'll call again tomorrow. He goes back to bed.

\------

Garak calls again the next morning. Dukat doesn't answer. Garak doesn't know what to do. Until they officially break off the courting, neither of them are allowed other partners. Not that Dukat has ever let something like that stop him before, considering how many lovers he had while he was still married. Garak shouldn't let it affect his romantic life, either. It doesn't mean anything, after all. If it was all fake, then he's not really tied to Dukat.

But…

Garak is a romantic, a traditionalist, really, at heart. He's promised himself to Dukat, when he agreed to the courting. He doesn't want to break that promise, even if Dukat wouldn't know, even if Dukat wouldn't care. Garak would rather wait to break things off, than cheat on someone who is probably cheating on him, who probably has been, this whole time. Garak looks at the broken necklace, on the floor by the reclamator. He leaves it there, and goes to start his day.

\------

Garak calls again the next morning. Dukat doesn't answer. Garak looks at the broken necklace on the floor. He picks it up. He strokes his thumb absently over the jewel in the center. He should sell it. Or destroy it. But he can't keep it. Garak puts it in his pocket and goes to the jeweler's shop. The jeweler inspects the necklace, and gives a figure. Garak is stunned silent. He could tell it was a decent quality necklace, but he'd never dreamed Dukat would spend that much on him. He doesn't know what to make of this. It seems odd that Dukat would waste so much money on a silly game. If he had asked for it back, that would have been one thing. But he had let Garak keep it. And for what? Actually, upon reflection, that wasn't the first time he wasted money on Garak. It all really makes no sense.

The jeweler says his name questioningly, in the way one does when it is not the first time they tried to get your attention. Garak looks back at them. "Is that figure alright?" they ask.

"I…" Garak clears his throat. "I've changed my mind. I want to keep it."

"Alright. Would you like me to fix it?"

"No," Garak says. Why fix the necklace, when he'll never wear it again. He may be hesitant to break off the courting, but it doesn't mean he'll wear something from Dukat, like some desperate, pining, lover, who ignores their partner’s crimes.

\------

Months pass. The anger fades, but what remains is even worse. Garak realizes he's miserable without Dukat, which is utterly humiliating. Even knowing it was an act, when he looks back on it, he realizes it was the happiest he'd been in years. Garak wants it back, desperately.

Garak calls Dukat nearly every day. At first it was to break off the courting, but after a while he realized it was because he missed him. He just wants to see his face, hear his voice. He needs to apologize. Maybe he can even convince Dukat to take him back. He's sure there was something there. He's sure of it. It couldn't have all been fake. There was absolutely no reason to spend so much money on him, if he really didn't mean it. Even if he's wrong, and it truly meant nothing to Dukat, Garak just needs to see him. He needs closure. But Dukat never answers.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Christ, I am so very sorry for how late this is. Life got severely in the way, but here I am. Thanks as ever to my tireless beta <3

Garak enters the Replimat for their weekly lunch. His fingers tap thoughtlessly against his thigh as he slides into his usual seat, across from Doctor Bashir.

"Hello," Julian greets him, with a warm smile. Garak just nods at him. His eyes flick to the table, and he toys restlessly with the tablecloth, wishing he had something more substantial to play with. "Someone's distracted," Julian hums, amused.

Garak bites his lip. He debates bringing it up, feels he can no longer hold it in, that he will  _ combust _ if he tries. But not here.

"I'm sorry, Doctor," Garak says, after a slight hesitation. "Can we have lunch in my quarters, instead?"

"Sure," Julian says, and nods. Eyeing him, worry thinly veiled as he stands. They walk in relative silence, side by side, to Garak's quarters. Garak seems to be off in his own world. Entering and getting settled, they order their meals from Garak's replicator.

"I'm going to find him," Garak says, fidgeting in his seat, after a long pause.

"Whom?" 

"Dukat." 

Julian looks at him blankly, saying nothing, and then, "Why?"

"I... I..." Garak says, bringing his hands to cup his forehead as he hunches over in his seat, staring into nothingness, not knowing how to explain. 

"Is this a good idea?" Julian presses; Garak looks up at him, meeting his eyes.

"No...” he pauses. Then opens and closes his mouth, thinking and rethinking, reconsidering what the truth of this whole  _ thing _ is, and shakes his head a bit. Any truth will do, at this point, anything he can work with. He's lost right now, with Dukat gone like this. 

Maybe  _ that's  _ the truth he needs.

“I don't know. I just need to see him.  _ Help me _ , Julian." He says, desperately. 

Julian looks at him for a long moment, taking in Garak's desperate countenance. "What do you need?" He asks. 

"A runabout," Garak says. 

\-----

Garak finally finds it. He finds the planet Dukat is on. It took him longer than it should have, his desperation turning him sloppy, but he’s found it. Garak’s breathing speeds up. He immediately dials Julian. "I've found him," he says. "Did you get me the runabout?"

"I couldn't," Julian says. "I'm sorry, I tried."

"Okay," Garak says, and forces himself to take a deep breath. "That's okay. I'll think of something."

He steals one. 

\------

It takes a while to get to the planet. Garak gets several calls from ops, which, naturally, he ignores. 

But then  _ Julian _ calls, and he answers.

"Yes?" he asks.

"I don't know how you did it," Julian says. "But once they found out you'd stolen it, they wanted to hunt you down. I've pulled in a lot of favors to get them to let you see this out, instead of chase after you and drag you back. So you're welcome."

"Yes, thank you, Doctor,” Garak says, distracted.

"I hope this works," Julian says. "Because Sisko is pissed. He's talking about throwing you in the brig when you get back."

"Hmm," Garak says. "Well, it isn't like I haven't already become familiar with the place. It's not so bad."

Julian rolls his eyes, then looks back at Garak.  “Anyway. What's your plan? Or did you run off half cocked, as usual?

“Excuse you! I've never run off half cocked. I always have a plan!”

Julian snorts. “Ninety percent of the time, you have no idea what you're doing, and just fly by the seat of your pants.”

“You can't prove anything, Doctor. And  _ whatever _ I may be planning,  _ or not planning, _ it usually works out for me. I'm sure this will too.” 

Garak tugs nervously at the chain around his neck. 

Julian's eyes flick down to it, a smirk twinkling in his eye, even if it doesn't quite grace his lips on this  _ serious occasion _ , crimes being committed and all. “I see you've fixed it. I  _ knew _ you'd regret throwing it away.”

“Julian,” Garak says seriously, taking a deep breath.  “Shut up.”

"Mmhm.” 

... _ His gulblasted lips just twitched didn't they? _

“Is it a good idea to wear it to go see Dukat? It might piss him off."

"He's already pissed off, what's one more grievance to add to the stew?"

"Fair enough."

"I also brought his favorite flowers, so perhaps those will placate him a bit." Julian snorts. "What?" Garak snaps.

"You know his favorite flowers. That's sweet."

Garak ends the call, muttering under his breath.

\-----

Garak gets to the planet, and tugs at his necklace. He beams down with his stolen combage, leaving the runabout in orbit. Then he goes to rent a skimmer, driving to the hotel Dukat and his crew are staying at, once he acquires one. Garak finds Dukat's room and knocks. Dukat opens the door, sees that it's him, and closes it. Garak pounds on the door. "Dukat, please let me in," he says.

"Fuck off," Dukat spits. "If you don't leave, I'll come out there and shoot you."

"Just--just listen to what I have to say, and if you still want to shoot me after, I won't stop you."

There's a pause. "No," Dukat says, simply. But then the door opens. "I'm not going to listen to what you have to say. I'm just curious to know how you got here. Sisko let you borrow a runabout?"

"Ah, no, I may have… stolen one."

"Wow." Dukat says. "Sisko is going to kill you."

"Throw me in jail, actually." Garak says.

Dukat looks at him steadily. "Was it worth it?" he asks. "Risking all that, just to have me slam the door in your face?"

"Yes," Garak says, without hesitation. "I just needed to see you. I don't care what they do to me."

"But jail. You’re--” 

"I know! I don't care! The only thing that matters is that you listen to what I have to say!"

Dukat looks at him, considering, fighting a softening of his face. He manages to set his jaw in a hard line and keep a blank expression, but his eyes betray him. After a while he opens the door wider, but straightens up and does his level best to radiate distaste and scrutiny. "Well, come on in and tell me what's so important."

"Thank you," Garak says. He looks down and lets out a short, shaky, breath.  "Here, these are for you," he says, handing Dukat the flowers.

Dukat takes them reflexively, and then doesn't seem to know what to do with them. He looks around, eventually settling on putting them on the table, for now, and looks back to Garak, crossing his arms. "You're really annoying, you know," Dukat says. "You must have called me every day."

"Yes, well." Garak flicks his eyes to the floor, unable to meet Dukat's gaze given what he's going to say next. He opens his mouth to speak, but then he realizes he should really look at him while he says this. He looks back up at Dukat, swallows nervously, and begins to speak. "At first I just wanted to break off the courting, and then I wanted to apologize for what I said. I'm sorry. It was fucked up and I shouldn't have said it. I didn't mean it, I just wanted to hurt you the way you hurt me. I was so angry that it was just a game to you. But it wasn't, to me. And then you were gone, and I realized I missed you, terribly, and I was miserable without you. And... I know it was an act. But we were good together. Or, I thought so, anyway. You probably didn't. But just give me a chance. Let me prove it to you. Take me back." Garak watches Dukat's face for a reaction, but doesn't know how to read his expression. Its open, but somehow Garak feels he's the one it's made vulnerable. "What?" Garak asks, anxious.

"You're in love with me," Dukat says, awe in his voice. "You can't live without me."

"What?" Garak demands. "No! That's not what I said! That's not remotely what I said!"

"I can read between the lines." Dukat says. "You were so desperate to see me that you risked Sisko's wrath. You don't care what he'll do to you, as long as it meant you got to talk to me. You just told me you were miserable without me."

"Yes," Garak admits. "I did say that. But that is a far cry from not being able to live without you."

"Just admit it," Dukat says. "Tell me you love me. Tell me you can't live without me. Tell me, and I'll take you back."

"I love you," Garak says sarcastically. "I can't live without you."

Dukat looks at him in disbelief. "Is that the best you can do? If you can't even admit it, then how do you expect to prove to me that we'd be good together?" He starts to push Garak towards the door. 

"Wait! Okay! I'm sorry!" Garak takes a deep breath, and tries again. "I love you," he says, voice trembling with emotion. "I can't live without you."

"Holy shit," Dukat says. "You really mean it."

"No!" Garak protests. "I didn't mean it! You forced me to say it, but I don't-" he is cut off when Dukat leans down and grabs his face then soundly kisses him. Garak gasps in surprise, but kisses back, gripping Dukat’s shoulder to keep him close, to get a grip on  _ something _ as his world is rocked, overwhelmed by...  just...

_ Dukat _ . 

And then Dukat pulls back to say "Yes.  _ Yes _ , I'll take you back. Now go home," and Garak, yet again, is thrown for a loop.

"I just got you back, and now I have to let you go again?"

"I'm in the middle of a mission. But when I've finished, I'll come see you. I promise."

"Please," Garak says. "Please just give me one night. I need you."

Dukat looks at him, considering for a moment. "No," he says, finally. "I'm still angry. I'm giving you a chance, but that doesn't mean I've forgiven you."

"Then what," Garak says, crushed. "What-"

"Oh, don't look at me like that," Dukat says, frowning, and breathing a weary sigh. "Give me some time... I just need some time."

"Uh-huh," Garak says, blankly. And then he leaves, the door slipping shut behind him. Garak walks down the hall, and then pauses for a moment. He turns back around and runs to the door, pounds on it frantically.

Dukat opens it. "Give me more time than that," he says.

"I just need to know," Garak says, desperately, "if it meant anything to you, at all. If _ I _ meant anything to you." Dukat looks at him for a long moment, saying nothing. "Right," Garak says. "Right, ok, that's fine, I'll just-"

"I didn't say no," Dukat says quickly, and then pauses to collect his thoughts. "I didn't realize it, at first. It was just an act.  Or, well, it was meant to be. I tried to push down all the feelings that would plague me.”

Garak’s face scrunches up at being called a plague. “Oh, that's lovely.”

Dukat gives a bark of laughter. “You know what I mean. It was the same for you, wasn't it?”

“Yes,” Garak admits grudgingly. “I would have phrased it... More tastefully, if not kinder, though.”

“Well, whatever. That's not the point. The point is that I didn't fully realize until I didn't have you anymore.”

"So, if it meant something to you, why didn't you answer any of my calls?"

"Garak," Dukat says, looking at him disbelievingly. "You told me you enjoyed killing my father."

"I didn't mean it. I was just angry."

"How was I supposed to know?" Dukat asks. "You were very convincing. And even if you didn't mean it, that's the worst thing anyone has ever said to me. I'm getting angry just thinking about it."

"Sorry," Garak says. "I regretted saying it, after I had finally forgiven you."

"Oh, well, if you're sorry," Dukat says sarcastically.

"I should go," Garak says.

"Yeah," Dukat says, and shuts the door in his face.

\------

"You're fucked," is the first thing Julian says to him upon his return.

"How bad is it?" Garak asks.

"A month."

"That's not so bad."

"But Sisko won't let you work, like he did last time. And it's your busiest month, so…"

"It's ok, I have a sugar daddy now," Garak jokes.

Julian’s lip curls in disgust. “Gross. At least you've finally realized it, though.”

“What?” Garak says, blankly. 

"In any case, I never want to hear those particular words from your mouth ever again,  _ especially _ about Dukat." 

“Wait, Julian. He’s not  _ really _ \-- It was just a joke!”

“Sure,” Julian says unconvinced. “I don't want to talk about this anymore. At least it worked. 

"Yes," Garak says, softly.

"Also," Julian says, just remembering. "Sisko won't let you call Dukat from jail."

"Ugh," Garak says. "I suppose that's fair. Well. Can you call him for me? Keep in touch with him, so he knows when to head over and come see me."

"I feel like a pimp," Julian says. Garak looks at him, trying to decipher this unfamiliar Federation word. “Don't worry about it. I'll keep him updated. Now go, before Sisko gets even more angry.”

Garak goes...

_ Has Dukat really been acting his sugar daddy!? _


	11. Chapter 11

"Hey sugar baby," Dukat says, smirking down at his poor little caged tailor.

"Oh my _God_ , I can't believe Julian told you." Garak says. "Hang on, how did you convince Sisko to let you come see me in jail?"

"Well, you get out tomorrow, so he was feeling lenient."

"Hmmm." Garak says.

"So you love me," Dukat says, smirking again.

"Jesus Christ. Leave me alone, this isn't fair. I can't escape."

"You don't really want me to go. You know how I know? Because you _love_ me,” Dukat says, giving him a big, toothy, shit eating grin.

"Odo!" Garak yells. "Get this man away!" Odo rolls his eyes.

"Odo, is it?" Dukat asks, turning to him speculatively. "Hey, do you allow conjugal visits?"

" _Dukat!_ " Garak says, scandalized.

"I think you can wait one day longer," Odo says, unamused.

"I've waited long enough," Dukat whines. "It's been _months_."

"Dukat, honestly," Garak says, blushing.

"Sorry," Dukat says, unrepentant.

"You're awful," Garak says. "Oh, so, have you forgiven me yet?"

"Would I be here, if I hadn't?"

"Point." Garak says.

"I want you," Dukat says, switching to Kardasi. "I should have fucked you, when you came to see me."

"Dukat! Don't _say_ that in front of Odo!" Garak says in Kardasi.

"Oh, don't worry," Dukat says. "I'm using a universal translator disruptor."

"Still," Garak says, a bit confused, but better to shut Dukat down first, before asking questions. "It's weird."

Did Odo not learn Kardasi growing- or whatever it was he did- up during the occupation?   

"I just. I want you to know, how much I've been thinking of you. There's so much we haven't tried."

Garaks train of thought is _completely_ interrupted. "Dukat, stop."

"I want to eat you out," Dukat says. "Would you like that? I think I'd like that. I want to taste you."

"Stop!" Garak says, frantically. "I'll get wet!" _And Odo will know what gets me off._

_Oh dear, if he doesn’t already._

"Hmm," Dukat says. "Alright. Tomorrow, then." And then he leaves. Garak slides down the wall, blushing absolutely _furiously_.

What a sight he must make.

\-----

The first thing Garak does when they let him out is go find Dukat. He really should open the shop, but he just can't wait. He had been hesitant to visit Dukat's ship before, not wanting to run into his crew, but after the public humiliation they witnessed, he doesn't figure he has anything to lose.

He scuttles off to Dukat's ship and finds the Gul's personal quarters, immediately and urgently pounding on the door. Dukat opens the door, surprise on his face. Garak pushes Dukat back inside, and then down onto the bed. "Shouldn't you be at work?" Dukat asks, sounding dazed.

"Yes," Garak says. "But you promised me something." And then he climbs into Dukat's lap, and kisses him. Dukat kisses back immediately, but then tilts Garak's head back and sinks his teeth into his neck. "Oh!" Garak says, starting to evert. "You really like biting me there, don’t you?"

"Yes," Dukat says, against Garak’s jaw, then moving to suck a hickey into his neck.

"Hey!" Garak says. "Don't leave a mark, I don't have a dermal regenerator!"

"I do," Dukat says, going back to sucking at his neck.

Soon Garak is squirming. "Oh, Dukat, please."

Dukat growls, and hefts Garak up, maneuvering Garak so he's on his back. He then tugs at and pulls the pants off the full figure below him. Dukat pops up from his task, to look Garak in the eye, surprised, "You're very wet," he says. His eyeridges arch upwards.

"Yes," Garak says. "I couldn't stop thinking about this. Did you do that on purpose? Tease me, and then leave me to suffer."

"Yes," Dukat says, smirking. "I needed a little revenge. It made me feel better."

"I hate you," Garak says.

"Mmhmm," Dukat says, and strokes his hands down Garak's trembling flank. "So, did you get wet?" Dukat asks. "Did you ruin your pants?"

"Yes," Garak says, blushing. "I'll never be able to look Odo in the eye ever again."

"Ok," Dukat says, pleased. _Now_ I forgive you."

"You hadn't before?" Garak asked, hurt. "You lied?"

"Not entirely," Dukat says. "I was halfway there. I just wanted to make you suffer, a little bit."

"You're a sadist," Garak says, accusingly, narrowing his eyes.

"Yes, and you're a masochist," Dukat replies. "It all works out." Garak is about to come up with some witty retort but then Dukat's leaning down and pushing Garak's legs up. Garak expects him to get straight to the point, but instead, Dukat sucks at his inner thigh.

" _Oh_. You really like using your mouth on me," Garak says. “You have from the start. I thought it was weird.”

“Hm. Do you still?”

“No.”

“Guess I'd better stop then.”

“Don't.”

“Oh? I thought you didn't like it.”

Garak huffs out a breath. “Fine. I like it. But you need to stop forcing me to say things.”

“I don't think I will. It's quite fun.” But then he sinks his teeth into the fleshy parts of Garak’s thigh. Garak's breath hitches, and puts a hand on his dripping cock. " _Please_ ," he says.

"Alright," Dukat says, and puts his mouth where Garak really wants it. Garak inhales sharply, then moans.

"Good?" Dukat asks.

" _Stop talking_ ," Garak says desperately, "and put your mouth to better use."

"Bossy," Dukat says, smirking. But he complies with the order.

It doesn't take long for Garak to come, and when he does, he has to bite his lip to stop himself from screaming.

"Good?" Dukat asks, again.

"Yes," Garak says, and then laughs. "Oh, your face." It's drenched with Garak's juices.

"Mmhmm," Dukat says, and then he's lining up and pushing in, and Garak does not talk again for a very long time.

\------

Garak allows himself a moment to recover, and then he picks up his shirt.

"Where are you going?" Dukat asks.

"Where do you think? Work."

"Yeah. You could do that," Dukat says, agreeably. "Or, you could fuck me."

Garak puts down his shirt, and pushes Dukat back down onto the bed.

\------

This time Dukat lets Garak go, and as Garak is exiting his quarters, a crewman walks by. He looks at Garak in disgust.

"What?" Garak asks.

"Next time, keep it down," the crewman says.

"Oh. Right. Sorry." Garak says, blushing.

And then he goes to his shop.

A few hours later, Jadzia walks in.

"Garak!" She says. "I'm so glad you're out. I've needed these pants altered."

"Mmm alright." Garak says, taking them from her.

"So," she says. "Are you and Dukat doing anything special tomorrow?"

"I don't imagine so. Why?"

"It's your anniversary!" Jadzia says, the _duh_ obvious in her voice.

" _Fuck_!" Garak says, nearly dropping the pants. He puts them down. "I didn't realize. Shit, I don't have anything for him. I don't know what to get him, either." He sinks his fingers into his previously immaculate hair in his anxiety.

"Well, you could go to the candle shop. They personalize them now. That's a nice, romantic gift."

"Candle shop. Ok, thank you Jadzia."

Garak closes up, then heads to the candle shop. He looks at the prices and sneers. Why would a candle be so expensive? But he picks out one he thinks Dukat would like, and goes to get it personalized, and then wrapped. He heads for his quarters, and on the way, Dukat intercepts him.

"Garak," he says, a pleased smile on his face.

"Dukat!" Garak says, and then hides the bag behind his back, and then feels stupid for it.

"What are you doing?" Dukat asks.

"Nothing." Garak says.

"What's in the bag?" Dukat asks.

"Nothing." Garak says again.

"Why are you being so weird?" Dukat asks.

"Why are you being so nosy?" Garak replies.

They glare at each other for a moment, and then Garak asks. "What did you want?"

"I thought we could hang out, or something. I don't have long before I have to head back out."

"You never do," Garak says bitterly.

"Which is why I don't want to waste it." Dukat says.

Garak shrugs, but then nods. "Okay," he says. "Let's do something."

Dukat lights up like the sun coming out from behind a cloud, and Garak is suddenly breathless. Dukat had always been very convincing. But Garak suddenly realizes that it was nothing, _nothing_ , compared to how he acts when he really means it. ' _I could fall in love with him, if he looked at me like that every day_ ,' Garak thinks. And then he immediately panics.

"I've changed my mind," Garak says. "I don't want to hang out tonight."

Dukat looks annoyed. "We _just_ talked about not wasting time."

"I just--I need a moment, okay." Garak says.

Dukat seems to realize Garak is starting to panic. "What's wrong?" he asks.

"I need a moment," Garak repeats. "but I'll see you tomorrow."

Dukat doesn't seem to want to drop the subject, but he lets it happen anyway. "Tomorrow," he says.

Garak watches him walk away, and then goes to find Julian. He goes to the infirmary, and Julian looks up at him. "Garak?" he asks. "What's wrong?"

"I need to talk to you." Garak says.

"Ok? What is it."

"In private." Garak says.

Julian looks like he's about to protest, but considering Garak is working himself into a state, he agrees, silently nodding. Julian leads him into his office, gesturing for Garak to go in ahead of him, following after the tailor. He sits down, and motions Garak to as well. Once they've seated, he asks. "What's wrong?"

"I think I'm falling in love with him," Garak blurts out.

Julian just stares at him.

"With Dukat," Garak clarifies.

"Yeah, obviously." Julian says.

"Then… then why are you looking at me like that?"

"Uh. Because you're saying this as if you're just realizing it. Did you not know?"

"Obviously not!" Garak says.

"How did you not know?" Julian asks. "I knew. Dukat knew. The whole _station_ knew."

"If you're trying to make me feel better, it's not working."

"I just. I don't understand what the problem is."

"The problem?? The problem is I'm falling in love with _Skrain Dukat_!"

Julian snorts. Garak looks at him incredulously. "I'm sorry," Julian says. "His first name is _Skrain_?" He bursts into laughter.

"Can we get back to the issue at hand?" Garak hisses, annoyed.

“Sorry. I need a moment.” Julian dissolves into giggles.

Garak rolls his eyes, sets his bag on the table.

“Oh?” Julian asks, wiping a tear off his face. “What’s this?” He opens the bag.

“Oh, sure, help yourself,” Garak says.

Julian looks down at the wrapped candle. “What’s in here?” he asks. He shakes it.

“Could you--not--” Garak says, grabbing it from him, painfully reminded that Doctor Bashir is half his age. “It’s a candle.”

“Oh, from the shop that just opened on the promenade? I heard those were expensive.”

“They are.”

“You don’t even like candles.”

“I know. This is for Dukat. It's our anniversary tomorrow." Julian stares at him incredulously. "What?" Garak asks.

"You don't see how you're sending mixed signals here? You bought Dukat really nice candles, for your one year anniversary, and now you're panicking that you're falling in love with him."

Garak rubs at his temples with, oddly elegantly given context, pointed fingertips. "You're right. This is awful, Julian."

"It could be worse." Julian says. "He could not love you back."

"But he might not!" Garak says. "I told him I loved him, and he didn't say it back!"

"Okay, backtrack," Julian says. "You are just now realizing you might love him, after you've told him you do."

"Well, he forced me to." Garak says.

"What, like he held a phaser to your head until you said it?"

"He only agreed to get back together if I told him I loved him, that I couldn't live without him."

"You two are so weird," Julian says, shaking his head and leaning back in his chair. He gives Garak an awkward but well meant smile.

"Yeah, thanks," Garak says. "I think I'll get out of your hair," he says, and picks up the bag, putting the candle back inside.

"Alright," Julian says. "Good luck, knowing you're falling in love with your boyfriend. I know it's a tough one."

"Oh shut up," Garak says, and then he leaves.

\-----

Garak is relaxing with tea and a book when gets a vidcall from Julian. "Yes?" he asks.

"Are you still having your little crisis?" Julian asks.

Garak rolls his eyes. "No."

"Great! Want to go out for drinks?"

"NO!" Garak shouts, panicked, jumping half out of the chair at his comm-station.

"Uh, alright. You could have just said." Julian says.

"Sorry," Garak says, embarrassed, attempting to nonchalantly sit back down.

"It's alright," Julian says. "But what brought on that reaction?"

"The first time I drank while Dukat was on the station, I slept with him. And the second time I drank while Dukat was on the station, I agreed to courting. So who knows what awful thing could happen the third time I drink while he's on the station?!" Garak asks, wild eyed. "We could get engaged, or something!"

Julian snorts.

"This isn't funny!" Garak says. "How would you feel if you woke up shackled to that man!"

Julian sobers up. "You know what, Garak, you're completely right."

"Thank you," Garak says.

"I don't know how I'd live with myself, if I got engaged to someone I'm in falling in love with. Just the thought has me in palpitations." Garak looks at him in surprised outrage, and Julian bursts out laughing. Garak ends the call.


End file.
